The King and Queen of Neverland
by SlytherinPride2292
Summary: In this AU story, Pan has a True Love, who is anything but an innocent Lost Girl. Among ghastly plants and angry mermaids, Titianna Jean Everheart is not just another danger on the island. When she becomes Peter Pan's deadly Queen, she becomes Neverland's mistress, and she can be quite cruel. (Rated M for violence, language, smut, and one heck of a dark!power couple!)
1. Met His Match

Peter Pan watched Jean move around the camp fire in a certain grace that left him wanting her.

It was common for him to watch her with the darkening gaze of his emerald green eyes.

He sat on a rock, elbows relaxed on his knees while he admired his Queen turning on her feet, her arms above her head as her eyes closed, her hips swaying lazily to the guile of beating drums and filtering noise made by the whooping of the Lost Boys.

Pan exhaled sharply, glancing from her to see his boys getting more and more wild as the celebration continued. He should have felt the same celebratory feeling, behaving like the wily beasts before him but instead, there was a different beast yearning to come out and play with the delicate flower.

Jean wore a knee-high brown dress, stitched of loin cloth and adorned with white lilies and purple tulips, the collar of it dipped low enough to send a man's imagination flying; her brunette hair was untamed and wild as her smile, the long locks falling down her shoulders and a few strands fell over her eyes, which met Pan's in an alluring gaze.

Pan could feel his heart racing with the flashing images of what they had done in the past-all that moaning, sweat, and fire...she was in his blood, and there was no way she was ever getting out of his sight.

One of the boys, Devin, offered to take Jean's hand. Jean took it and they, along with the other boys, danced wildly, doing cart wheels, back flips, somer saults and jumping up and down like a group of cave men having just discovered fire.

After half of an hour of the wild festivities, Jean left the group, sauntering over to Pan whose back straightened when he realized she was gracing him with her presence.

Beads of sweat rolled down her collar bone and and the dirt on her face made her look so much more wild and free.

Pan didn't think his attraction to Jean could get any stronger, but he was wrong. The lust that consistently bore itself inside of him seemed to roar like a furnace fire when Jean stood in front of him; she parted his legs with her knees, her body standing between them like the exotic goddess he viewed her to be.

"Why are you not dancing?" Jean asked softly; the softness of her voice had toned down the lowest timbres of her voice, quaking Pan's lust even further. While he sat on the rock and looked up at Jean, Pan smiled when she touched his face with her hands, those pale, slender fingers brushing the skin just beneath his jaw line caused him to smirk.

She may have been towering over him, but the submission of her gesture proved mainly one thing to him. Pan may be King of Neverland, but more importantly; he was HER King.

"Do you not like dancing with your friends?" Jean asked quietly, looking a little more concerned than curious.

Pan took her hands in his and she slowly lowered herself on her knees; she felt the earth caress the bones of her legs in the dirt, the grime, the leaves and sticks beneathe. Jean placed her hands on the rock, on either side of Pan's legs and she leaned into him. Pan met her the rest of the way and joined her in a long, wet kiss; when she parted her lips so to invite him in to deepen the kiss, he was more than happy to oblige. Jean exhaled sharply with a soft, satisfied sigh when he placed his hands behind her neck, moving her towards him so he could press his mouth against hers harder...rougher.

The two became breathless when they parted and Pan was pleased to see the lust in her eyes reflected his own.

"I prefer to watch you dance," Pan told her in a low voice.

"You know what comes later, of course." Jean told him.

"Of course, i do. I'm the one that came up with the idea." Pan stated, smirking at her. With relish, he said, "The hunt. But I don't think hunting pigs and mermaids is as fun as finding you tangled in my bed sheets."

Jean felt her face become red and heated. She loved it when Pan talked dirty to her. The words themselves were enough to make her blush, but that damn accent of his caused a ripple effect of stomach-born butterflies and thoughts of sweaty, naked bodies, moaning...the works.

Pan was satisfied to see that he had just the same affect on her as she did on him. Even after what one could guess to be nearly decades, they still couldnt quench their lust for each other. That connection they had found a century ago was still very much alive; they could feel it not only in their hearts, but below the waist as well.

"I love it when you talk like that," Jean whispered; she sent him a crooked smile, and Pan smirked right back.

"Mother."

Pan and Jean broke their infinite gaze to see Felix step forward. He, like the other Lost Boy, appeared hot, sweaty, and rambunctious. He'd taken off the cloak and held a spear in his hands, matching the rest of the lot. As though he had been reluctant to break the obvious sexual tension between his bold leader Pan, and the maternal love of Neverland, Jean, Felix (like everyone else) knew that the hunt would come before sunrise. Eager to get started, Felix smiled apologetically.

"What are we hunting today?" Slightly asked eagerly to no one in particular.

"I vote Mermaids." Toodles insisted. "Those little fin devils got it coming tonight!"

"Pirates!" shouted Nibs, waving his spear wildly.

"PIGS!" shouted some of the lost boys.

"Indians!" bellowed another lost boy.

There were so many Lost Boys, it was hard to keep count and names. Some of the earlier boys that had come had either dropped out of the race, out of the sky, off the island or...Jean glanced at Pan knowingly...much worse. Sometimes the boys either killed themselves or killed each other-or became too hormonal and saw Jean as more than a mother, and then that was Pan's doing...or the Shadow. Jean inwardly smiled as Pan sighed lazily, getting to his feet and walking to the fire, smirking suddenly.

"No. I have a better idea." Pan said, smiling widely. With a wicked smile, he looked right at Jean and said, "Her."

The Lost Boys, who had all been wild, eager, and whooping, suddenly stopped and stared horrifically at Jean, then confusedly at Pan. The King was grinning with the idea. Felix looked at Jean and saw that she was smiling too.

"Me?" Jean inquired as if she was slightly offended...or deeply flattered. It was hard to tell sometimes. Like Pan, Jean could be pretty unpredictable.

She sauntered over to Pan, who watched her with a dark intense gaze and he raised his head slightly to prove that he was more than serious. Jean looked up at him for she was about a foot shorter than he, and the glint in her eyes proved to be more mischievous than fearful.

"You think you can hunt me down, Peter?" Jean whispered. She closed the distance between them while Pan refused to back down.

The Lost Boy glanced at one another uncomfortably. They had never seen Mother and Father so close together...the public display of affection was new to them.

"Afraid i might catch you?" Pan questioned. "Afraid of my game?"

"Not at all." Jean uttered, smirking. "I'd love to play."

She bent down at the waist, untying her black boots and slipped them off carelessly to the side, kicking them behind her. Jean leaned in, touching her lips just beneath his left ear lobe and whispered in the most sultry, tempting voice he'd ever heard, and only where he could hear her, "You may be in charge here and make the rules, but we both know just how much i like to bend over backwards to win."

Pan closed his eyes, as though he was having to physically restrain himself from taking her right then and there as he thought of all the times they had fun in his treehouse. The love biting, the nails raking down his back...the sleepless nights of dirty games and wrestling her to the floor just to hear her give into him and the love making that would come soon after.

Pan watched her slowly step back, smirking at him.

"Watch when the hunters..." Jean whispered as she looked at all the boys then gazed at Pan solely. "Become the hunted."

In five seconds, she took off running, leaving nothing but a deep set of female foot prints, and a fragrance of tulips and sea salt water behind. Pan glanced at the boots on the ground and realized why Jean had taken them off; she ran faster bare foot. Clever girl.

"You know what to do, Boys!" Pan shouted, raising a fist. "Let's play!"

Caught up in the challenge of finding 'Mother', the aggression of sharpening sticks and hunting for kicks, the boys all shouted in appraisal and war as they all took off at first in one direction then split in different paths to find the girl in the brown skirt.

[Some minutes later]

Jean hopped over fallen tree logs, sprinted through the vast forest, kicking up dirt, leaves, pine cones, and anything else that her feet could come in contact with. She kept a steady pace as she ran fast and hard, the branches flicking her harshly in the face and leaving bitter, stinging scratches on her arms and legs and face. Jean hardly spared the pain any mind; all she knew was that she had to create enough distance between her and the boys so she could take a breather, maybe even take a quick sip from a creek before climbing up one of the trees.

Jean tripped over a rock, hissing when she glanced to see that it had been a sharp one. She gritted her teeth, slapping her knees of the moss and mud then continued at half the pace, waiting for the worst part of the annoying pain to leave her. Jean glanced up at the trees to see the dark night sky, stars bright as ever, and the full moon above even brighter. She grinned as she heard something splashing nearby and recognized she was near the Mermaid Lagoon.

Jean sighed and steadily walked forward, following the noise. The mermaids were talking, floating above the surface. They were beautiful, all of them, in an undeniably annoying way but Jean was more than secure in her own beauty. She stepped out of the clearing and upon seeing her, the mermaids dipped out away from the shore, looking at her with as much suspicion as she deserved.

For the most part, Jean was a peach. But her time here in Neverland had brought out a more feral side. She more or less was the hunter but she was not as dangerous as Pan. What made her dangerous was that she accepted Pan's actions; even when he killed some of the Lost Boys, drowning them in Mermaid Lagoon. She could be the only person who could stop pan from doing something so foul as to killing boys but she could also goad him into doing it too. But that was what made her so terrifying.

"Jean..." The mermaids all whispered.

Jean simply acknowledged them as she jogged slightly to the shore, getting down to her knees and ducking her head under the water to drink in the salty, bitterness of the sea. It only made her more thirsty but for now, it would do. Jean pulled her head out of water, shaking it left and right and sighed deeply. The chase was going on as long as she could prolong it; Pan would regret sending the boys after her; they would be hunting til morning for her.

"Playing a game?" the mermaids asked in unison.

"Yes."

"They finally turned against you?" asked one of them with a sniveling smile.

"No." Jean replied.

"Damn." said the same mermaid, disappointment clear on her face and through her words.

Jean chuckled.

"Love to chat, but i am on my way." Jean said sarcastically. She gave them all a wink and then ran off.

The mermaids watched after her and amongst themselves, they argued how hard it was to hate her and yet they loved her just the same. That mischievous look on Jean's face, and that crooked smile were to die for. Jean was a peach...but she was rotten to the core.

[An hour later]

Jean sat high on a large, thick tree. She crossed a leg over the knee, peeling an apple with her hunting knife as she glanced down to see the flickering lights of burning torches moving around her tree. The Lost Boys had found her trail, but were lost up unto this point.

"Mother is a good hider." Toodles remarked.

"Too good." Slightly stated.

"She's probably still running," offered Nibs.

"Maybe she's not running at all." Felix stated. He slowly looked up at the tree. "We all know how much she likes to climb trees. Maybe...she's up there."

"Or she's swimming in Mermaid Lagoon," suggested one of the newer lost boys. His name was Jake...or Jock...something with a 'J'. Jean smirked proudly when Jake or Jock was instantly pushed against a tree and Felix was threatening the boy with a spear to his throat.

"Think you're gonna find her there? That's like the tenth time you've brought her up...like that." Felix said unhappily, and the last words were spoken with disgust.

Jean cocked an eyebrow, losing the appeal for her apple and become most involved in the conversation below.

"You like her. Don't you?" Felix interrogated slowly.

"Well, she's kinda hot."

"She's beautiful," Toodles and Nibs said together.

"But what do you want with her, I wonder." Felix pondered loudly and that protective voice of his came out. Like a protective son over his mother. Jean was smiling as she heard Jack become a hot mess of stutters and frantic babbling as he tried to explain that he was only trying to find Jean to finish the game, but apparently, he'd been a hound dog for the past couple of weeks and Felix, who had become most loyal to Pan and a devout servant of the Queen, was prone to act out of allegiance than friendship.

"You're treading on thin ice, Jock." Felix threatened. "Heed my warning. Mother Jean isn't a trophy to be won or a treat to be gained. You will be careful with your words next time or i will skin your back and make it a rug, do you understand me."

Damn, Felix.

Jean raised her eyebrows, impressed, and snickered softly. When the intimidation was finished and Jock appeared to have messed his pants, the scouting party continued as the other boys were eying Jock more carefully. Jean began to move but when she turned her head, she opened her mouth to scream in surprise when a body was blocking her way.

A well-defined, toned arm immediately reached out and the hand connected to it placed its palm over her mouth and shoved her back against the thick bark of the tree. Jean's wide eyes relaxed when she saw that it was Peter Pan; the hunger in his eyes, however, brought about a different tense reaction from her. He glanced down, tilting his head to the side to watch his Lost Boys begin running to a newer, fresher sound and they were out of the clearing.

Jean smiled behind Pan's hand, wondering why he was still muffling her when the 'threat' was long gone. Pan slowly looked at her and she knew his intentions immediately. He replaced his hand with his mouth, kissing her with much wanton and fervor that could possibly be transferred through a kiss. His lips were soft, but needy, and Jean only sharply inhaled when he pulled her down by her legs, her back now on the branch instead of being against the trunk. Their passion became their communication as not another word was spoken, even when Jean playfully protested, pushing off Pan's advances to move his hands under her skirt. After batting him off a few minutes, Jean was restrained as he took both her wrists in his large hand, placing them above her head in one slick movement.

Pan spread her legs the placement of his body between them and with the free hand, he spared no hesitation in placing his fingers along her panty line, sliding them onto the soft material of her underwear to feel the heat radiating through her underwear. Jean inhaled sharply when he cupped his palm over the only barrier between him and her longing.

"You've been taunting me all night." Pan uttered in a hoarse but surprisingly calm voice.

"Actually," Jean began with a lick of her lips, "I've been working you all *day*." She snickered darkly but was silenced the moment he slipped his hand inside her underwear and slid one finger between her the lips of her flesh.

Her face was strained in an attempt to be silent. After all, the boys below were still hunting for her. Pan smirked-she so desperately wanted to win the game. Something they both had in common; they were incredibly competitive. Jean squeaked and restrained what might have been a needy moan when he teased her entrance, moving his finger tips so lightly in a bit of a 'walk'. Pan watched her intensely, wanting to savor her look of desperation, desire, and aching for him; how he enjoyed this more than anything in the world. It was almost worth the growing throbbing sensation in his own loins that only seemed to become more painful when he thought of how easy it would be to take her now, to feel himself deep, deep inside of her. The slickness of her wet pussy, the tightness of her core.

God, he wanted her.

"You're about to lose, Jean." Pan whispered against her neck. He kissed the small area just behind her ear, adding, "they'll find you, not by sight but by ear. You will feel everything i want you to feel. You'll scream when i want you to scream."

Jean felt her core tighten with the need of him. And this was just foreplay. Just his words and voice alone could make her wet and needy.

He let go of her wrists and Jean immediately reacted. She was on Pan with his back against the tree, moved there roughly by the hard push instigated. Jean straddled his lap. She was a wild one, Pan already knew. But the sight that followed soon after only made him want her more. She quickly reached around her shoulders, pulling off her brown dress, and revealing the tanned flesh underneath. Soft shoulders, tanned skin, and the perky nips of round breasts greeted Pan and the longing became an ache.

"If i am going to lose," Jean offered callously. "I'm bringing you down with me."

Pan said passively, "Not very sporting of you."

"I don't play fair, remember." Jean returned mischievously.

"No. I know too well you like to play dirty." Pan replied, smirking at her.

Jean placed her hands around his neck and pushed his head back hard against the bark of the tree; Pan grunted but it passed when she shoved her mouth on his. She kissed him so hard it almost hurt, their lips in a battle for victory, tongues in her mouth. Pan felt her sides, touched her back, touched her stomach then her breasts. He wasnt gentle as he took in their size-perfect handfuls. He kneaded them hard and roughly like she always wanted, and moved his thumbs around her nips and then over their peaks. Jean moaned once in resolve, and then another time in excitement. Then she moaned in his mouth.

Pan wanted her now more than ever. And he wanted her closer. Wanted her skin on his. As though reading his mind, Jean stopped the kiss and began lifting his shirt above his head; he raised his arms so she could finish the deed effortlessly. Jean's hands greedily washed over his body, touching every part of him: His defined chest and abdomen, his broad shoulders and toned back. Her fingers raked through his hair, and with a vigor, she pulled.

Pan growled, "Easy, love!"

Jean returned breathlessly, "Fine, then pull my hair."

Pan chuckled and he took a handful of her hair and pulled it back so her head yanked stagnantly; using this to his advantage, he pushed Jean on her back and he was in control. Jean was moaning, and the sound was music to his ears. He took one of her hands and placed it between their bodies, down where he was feeling hard and pulsing. Jean smiled when she knew what she was doing to him.

"I want you, Peter." Jean mumbled.

Pan smirked when his name rolled off her tongue.

"I want you now." Jane said.

He reached under her dress, and Jean gasped when he pulled and ripped her underwear off, tossing it up to the other branches. Pan got onto his knees, watching a squirming, writhing Jean move desperately, her hips lifting involuntarily to make him work faster. And it was working.

Pan pulled down his pants and drawers, freeing himself. Jean opened her legs eagerly and he moved in between them. Jean nearly cried when he moved on top of her ever so slowly, taking his time.

"Peter." She growled.

"One moment, babe." Pan mused. Despite his own longing and heavy breathing, he was enjoying her vulnerable state, taking his time to watch her wiggle under him. Jean wasn't having any of that. She lifted her hips to him; her hands moved down to reach his cock and Pan, who was surprised and impressed at her intiative, gasped when she pushed herself onto him...or did she move him inside of her? It was an odd moment where he wasn't sure which had happened but the slickness of her opening welcomed him easily and took all of him inside without any kind of resistence. But the moment he was in her all the way down to the base was when he felt the tightness circle his shaft and he moaned...loudly.

He might have wanted her more than he had imagined. Immediately, he began to thrust inside of her. Jean echoed his moans, her legs closing around his waist and making her entrance tighter and he could feel her walls contracting, working with him and against him at the same time. Pan and Jean had many moments where fucking was almost a pleasant sin of pleasure and agony, but at this moment, the two could feel more agonizing ache and need.

"Kiss me." Pan told her in a commanding voice.

Jean roughly kissed him, her fingers snaking behind along his back side and her fingernails digging. He grabbed her hips, pushing his weight onto her; their hips aligned, their chests pressed together-god, it was glorious.

"Harder, Peter. Please..." Jean begged. "I want it to hurt."

Pan gripped bark of the branch underneath Jean and slammed into her harder, rougher, not holding back as the lady desired and loudly insisted. Her back arched, and her eyes flashed with hunger and avarice. Pan feverishly kissed her swollen lips, shrouding her moans to a muffle inside his mouth; her fire was captivating, and only he could control her flame.

"You are something else..." Pan muttered when Jean was begging for more. But god knows he wasn't disappointed. Now he could give her everything he wanted, everything his mind had imagined from day one. That litte minx that was pleading and begging for more would get her wish, all right.

"I've been waiting to do this for a very long time," Pan hissed into her ear.

Jean grunted when he pulled her up by her hair and pushed her down onto her belly, against the rough bark beneathe them. He placed his hands on her back, tracing her scratches given by the dragging and fucking on the branch, but she would only get more now. Pan moved his hands in front of him, in between her legs to play with her clit and she let out a whimpering moan, and a pleasurable cry when he slipped his fingers in, curling them so they met contact with her sensitive of pleasurable spots.

"That's right, Jean. Moan for me...let it out, babe." Pan whispered, smirking broadly when he watched her knuckles become white as she gripped the branch, her head leaned to the side, and her body squirming.

Pan grabbed her hips, steadying her and then pushed inside her pussy without any warning or signs. Jean inwardly moaned; her insides clenched and her muscles contracted around him. Pan gave her no time to become accustomed to him and he moved in and out of her, roughly, sparing her of any rest or recuperation.

God, she felt good. So wet. So needy. So...hungry. Jean was a greedy little girl, her voice lost to moans, or inaudible words-or made up words period. She said his name, calling out for him. Jean pulled herself up when she reached a strong, tidal wave of climaxes and her orgasm recently had brought out an interesting animal. Jean didn't stop Pan from pushing inside of her, pumping her so fast.

Still, the beast inside had awoken and Pan was caught off guard when she suddenly turned tables on him and by that, Jean had pushed him off the tree and they fell a few branches down onto the forest floor. The pain of hitting the ground didn't seem to phase either of them as Jean got on him, mounting his cock with her legs sprawled, straddling his hips.

"Ooh, look at that," Pan said, his voice rigid and breathless. "Daddy's girl is all grown up and wants to-mmmm..."

Jean interrupted him as she moved him inside of her; her hips grinding and moving. She was riding him, and riding him hard. Pan felt his own back arch, the pleasure overriding any sassy comment he could provide; Jean's hand lined with his throat, her fingers titillating the notion she could do with him what she wanted and not even he had the mind to stop her.

"Jean...don't stop..." Pan told her, his voice sounding desperate. Jean, who was panting and gyrating on him, had no intention of doing so. She steadied herself with her hands on Pan's chest, her fingernails creating little marks as she felt like she was climbing a mountain and the thought of reaching that mountain and not being able to peak would be more unbearable than anything before.

"Moan for me." Jean commanded.

Pan looked at her skeptically despite the wanton expression on his face. It was the first time she had given such a command, but that tone was almost too much for him to handle-talk about meeting his own match.

"I'm not..." Pan began but Jean caught his objection with a kiss of her own; it was dominanting, it was passionate, and the fiery response left Pan in the palm of her hand. The King of Neverland had a little bit of submission of his own, and secretly craved it and now, Jean was giving that to him. She was still pumping him inside of her, the fast rhythm became a slow, steady, hard grind and it was driving Pan crazy.

"Tell me you are mine." Jean ordered darkly; her eyes flashed in a powerful embodiment of the Queen of Neverland. Pan could not have been more aroused by Jean than he was currently.

"You want to come, don't you?" Jean breathed, almost exhausted, but determined.

"Yes."

"You don't want me to stop..."

"No..." Pan uttered; his jaw clenched when Jean leaned back and began touching herself as she continued grinding him, riding his cock slowly, keeping him hard and pulsing and throbbing but still unable to reach his full climax. It was becoming painful. Jean tempted him further as she lowered one hand to her clit, teasing herself in front of him while the other touched her breasts, taking one in her hand and then teasing her own nipple.

Holy fuck..She was killing him.

"Jean..." Pan muttered, breathless, panting, needing, wanting her.

"Tell me you want me...tell me you are mine...tell me..." She grinned darkly, "That i have won this game. If you do, i will let you come inside me."

Ah...that's her game. Jean wanted to win the game-the game of hunting and sex. Peter Pan knew at this moment that he had met his own match, his own little temptress and manipulation.

"Jean, please..."

"Say it."

Pan began to protest but then he watched her move her hand from her sweet, hot center to his shaft; her fingers lined around him and began pumping the rest of him that she didn't put inside of her. He was reaching over the peak but each time he came close, she stopped or would slow her grind to an agonizing pace.

"Say. It." Jean uttered dangerously, her lips pronouncing every little letter spoken.

Pan growled, "you win."

"Hmm?" Jean hummed. "I'm sorry, what? You have to say it louder."

Sexually frustrated to a point he was almost pissed, Pan responded, "You win, Jean!"

Jean beamed and she rode him to kingdom come, faster, harder, rougher and when he was almost to his peak, Jean kissed him. Hard. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands grabbing her ass and rolling her hips so she could ride him at the exact pace he wanted. Jean moaned loudly as she met her own peak, intensified when he arched his hips into her so he had pushed deep inside her core and hit her g spot. Jean and Pan were little moaning fits until the rush of the orgasm began to slacken and their bodies began to relax.

Panting. Sweating. Exhausted.

Jean touched her lips along his throat, her tongue lightly licked him like a little kitten and Pan smiled tiredly at her unique display of affection. Pan placed his fingers underneath her chin, tilting it upwards so their lips met and he kissed her softly but deeply.

"Have i ever told you that one day you may be the death of me?" Pan asked.

"Is that your clever way of saying you love me?" Jean asked, smirking at him.

Pan smiled at her and the two of them knew just what he had meant by those words. He loved her very much and she loved him. He was her King; and she was his Queen. Forever and ever.

[A few moments later]

Jean and Pan walked back to camp, fully dressed, but still very tired. Jean held his arm as though they were a married couple strolling through an avenue of rich markets and venues. When the arrived at camp, the Lost Boy were not back yet.

"Still looking for you, i imagine," Pan answered to Jean's silent inquiry.

"Can't imagine why," Jean mumbled. She glanced around. "You were screaming my name by the end of it-I thought they might have heard you."

Pan gave her a look.

"What? It's true." Jean stated. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." She smirked. "I like hearing you scream."

Pan couldn't dignify that with a response since the Lost Boys were heard coming back. God knows they were louder than sin. Pan and Jean broke eye contact to see Felix looking a bit distraught, or maybe angry. He led the pack back home and Jean smiled at him as he approached her.

"Why the long face, son?" Jean asked curiously.

Felix sighed: "We couldn't find you."

"Yeah," said Toodles. "Where were you hiding this entire time?"

"In a tree." Jean answered. Then a small smirk appeared as she said, "And for a moment, on the ground."

Pan smirked back at her.

All the Lost Boys started groaning and arguing when they all realized that Felix's theory had been right all this time and they could have won the game had it not been for Jock who had more than insisted they search Mermaid Lagoon for the Queen of Neverland.

Jean smiled. Ah, it was good to be Queen.


	2. The Truth

"Fire." Jean called.

"S'mores." Devin responded immediately.

"Forest..." Toodles called out next.

"Destruction," Felix said slowly with a grin.

"Love?" said Slightly.

Jean cocked her head to the side.

"Are you asking or telling me?" asked Jean smartly, chuckling.

Slightly shrugged, muttering, "I guess 'telling', but i don't see the point of the game. How do you know you've won?"

"It's not a game," Jean returned. "Not exactly. It's like word association; you're supposed to tell me the word that comes to mind whenever i say a word. It's a bit like a psychological thing."

They were sitting around the fire, all of them...except for Pan, who had gone off on some adventure...perhaps. All of them had to assume he was on an adventure but they could never be quite sure. One day, he would tell them that he had just been doing nothing for a while but then one of the Lost Boys would be missing and then on the way to Mermaid Lagoon or Pirates Cavern, they'd stumble across a dead body, and it would be that missing Lost Boy. Pan was charming, but he could be really unpredictably dangerous and a damn demon.

The daylight was pleasant, not a cloud in sight, and the sun was giving way to bright summer fun. At this certain point, Jean had gathered them around and asked each boy to say the first thing that came to their mind whenever she said a word. So far, she had said the words 'fire', 'Neverland', and 'Mermaid'. The answers for the latter had ranged from 'beautiful' to 'bloody little bitches'. The last had been Felix's answer and it had amused Jean to no end.

As the boys ate the cakes that Pan had left for them earlier in the morning, Felix stood and Jean glanced at him from her own seat on the tree branch which paid homage to a good bench.

"How about we make it a game?" Felix said, smirking. He always spoke slowly. Maybe it was to plan his words carefully, or make an emphasis on just how clever he was for coming up with the game. He was no doubt the eldest of the Lost Boys, maybe older than Jean. Hearing the proposition, Jean's ears perked up.

The Lost Boys (including Felix) looked at Jean for approval. There was a chain of command here in Neverland. Pan was the commander at all times; Jean was his second-in-command (his lovely Queen), and Felix served to be a bit of an advisor of sorts. Now with Pan out of the picture temporarily, Jean was calling the shots.

"Sure," Jean commended. "But you can come up with the rules, Felix. I'll be part of the game as a player."

Felix beamed with pride. He stood, in charge, one hand on his waist, the other on his trusty club. He stated the rules of the game. Rule one: It had to be the first word off the noggin, no hesitation or reconsideration and once spoken, the word could not be taken back or replaced. Jean found this rule the most interesting.

"What if it's a bit embarrassing?" Devin asked shyly.

"Doesn't matter." Felix said.

"But..." Devin began.

"Shut it. I'm making the rules. That's a rule." Felix overruled.

Devin looked at Jean as though wanting to have his side taken by her but Jean gave him a sweet look as though to allow Felix to have his moment and just deal with it. Devin slumped against the rock he'd been leaning against and sighed unhappily. Jean looked at Felix, nodding for him to continue.

Felix continued.

Rule Two: After every round, the best word spoken or really-the most interesting-would be the word chosen to win for the round.

"How many rounds are we doing?" asked Toodles.

"Can we eat during the game?" asked Nibs, who was currently snacking on a chocolate cream pie.

"What happens if we say the same word?" asked Slightly.

"Do we get more food if we win?" Nibs interjected.

"What do we get if we win?"

The last voice made everyone stop shouting and blurting out random questions (granted, they had been really important questions), and they all turned to see Peter Pan leaning against a tree, arms crossed, and his eyes watching his group of friends talk about this new intriguing game.

"Hi, Peter." Jean greeted smiling at him.

"Hey, babe." Pan returned. He kissed the top of her forehead and she beamed at him.

Pan took a seat on the ground in front of Jean, sitting right in front of her. Jean inwardly smirked but Pan was more than exuding his happiness to be where he always enjoyed most when it came to Jean: between her legs. His back leaned against her, one leg on either side of body. Pan took her hands and moved them so they rested on his chest. Jean beamed again.

Pan was becoming more and more openly affectionate. And that was just fine with her.

"Joining in, Pan?" Felix prompted.

"You know me," Pan returned. "I love new games. What are we playing?"

"It's a new one," Felix explained freely. "Jean thought of it."

"Is that so," Pan mused, glancing up at Jean. "What game did your twisted mind come up with today?"

Jean smirked at him, then glanced at Felix, who more than happily explained the game to Pan. Unlike some of the lost Boys, Felix was most relaxed around Pan; he and Pan didnt act like friends, more like brothers. For Felix, Pan was his best mate.

"I like the rules you've made so far," Pan approved in a low voice. "But let's make the game more interesting."

Felix grinned broadly and waved a hand in his direction, more than ready to hear any other suggestions. The other boys looked equally eager and maybe a little nervous. The game was going to test nerves of steel...and the honesty amongst friends.

"We won't use one words. Words are too easy." Pan said. "There's no backbone to it. Instead, we will all ask a question. We all must answer honestly, and quickly. You're given three seconds to come up with one. If you don't come up with an answer in time, you have to do whatever that person says."

There was no objection, but this was Pan of course so who could object? Jean gave some leniency-being Mother and all.

"Any objections?" asked Jean lightly.

Devin and Jock looked most uncomfortable. Jean knew why Jock appeared so; the word spread the other night that he had a bit of a physical crush on Jean and if that were to come out, no one really knew just what Pan might do. He wasn't exactly a jealous type being that Jean had gained his trust time and time again and a long time ago, but that wasn't to say that the natural boyfriend instincts would not slither out.

"Devin." Jean called on the uncomfortable boy.

"It's a good game but what...what would we have to do?" asked Devin. "And what questions do we ask? Are there any boundaries...or anything?"

"Actually," Pan uttered smoothly, "Let's take it up a notch. No boundaries. And any of the tasks given can be from doing a hand stand to...oh i don't know..." He lifted a hand as if thinking and then articulated slowly and darkly, "Jumping into Mermaid Lagoon."

"That would kill us." Devin muttered nervously.

Pan sneered, saying, "Well, you'd best hope you can answer the question in less than a second."

"Wait..." Slightly began quickly. He gained the attention from everyone. "I thought we had three seconds."

"It's one now." Pan overrode him.

Everyone hitched a breath (besides Pan, of course). Challenge accepted?...by most of them, anyway. Felix quirked an eyebrow. Pan was a savage when it came to coming up with the harshest of rules but thats what made Neverland so adventurous, so fun. Felix nodded, chewing on a toothpick.

"I'm in." Felix said.

"Me too," Jock chimed in bravely.

"Us two," Toodles and Nibs said.

Devin looked hesitant, but he sighed with resignation: "Sure..."

Slightly nodded his own silent agreement and then Pan smirked.

"Who wants to kick things off?" Felix asked the crowd.

"I'll go." Jock offered.

He stood to his feet, looking at everyone.

He looked at Felix.

"Do you have a crush on any of the mermaids?"

Immediately, Felix answered: "No."

Jean rolled her eyes. Felix called them bloody monsters; of course he had no crush. That was a wimpy question. She looked down at Pan, who also appeared disappointed.

Jean placed her hands on his shoulders, her thumbs locked just below his neck and she pressed down, moving her finger tips in concentric circles. Pan responded to her touch and his shoulders, which had been tensed, rolled back and relaxed. Jean continued giving the shoulder massage as Felix stood to his feet, shaking his head.

"Gotta ask better questions than that, Jock. Here. I have one...For Jean."

Jean glanced from the top of Pan's head to Felix, who was watching her with obvious amusement.

"Go on." Jean said. "Ask me anything."

"Nothing too strong," advised Slightly. "I don't really wanna know everything personal about a girl."

"Who doesn't wanna know something about a girl?" asked Toodles. His chubby face went all screwy as though he couldn't figure out what kind of sane person didnt want to understand how girls thought or worked. They were confusing to him.

"Like the monthly thing-no, i don't wanna know either." Nibs offered shyly, turning red at the mention of menses.

Jean smiled at all of them, not embarrassed at all. She looked at Felix.

"Have at it." She gave him full permission.

"Jean..." Felix began slowly as he considered his question carefully. "When you came to the island, the first time you arrived-not in dreams, but for real-what was your reason?"

The boys were impressed by the personal question and per the rules of the game, Jean responded promptly.

"I didn't feel like i belonged anywhere, not even when my foster parents were good and gave me a good home. I was a problem child and the only place i could be that wouldnt give me a hard time was Neverland and after i met Peter, i stayed with him on the island and never left."

Pan remained unblinking, but the tension in his shoulders was back. Something disturbed him about the answer she had given, but then again, Jean had never told another soul about how she had come to Neverland...or the problems from her other life back in the real world. That part of her-the life she had left behind-had only been between her and Pan...and maybe he had preferred to keep it that way.

"Good question." Jock commented.

Felix nodded. He sat down.

"I have one for Slightly," said Jock. "What do you reallllly do when you say you're going to take a sabbatical? You say you go hunting for pigs, but you never come back with anything of a pig. So...what do you do?"

Slightly grimaced and said quickly, "I look for fairies...Because. I dont know. They're pretty and stuff."

"Slightly loves fairies!" the boys started poking fun.

Jean frowned when Slightly started looking unhappy and so she decided to be the mediator as always and told the boys to stop and move onto someone else.

"We're just poking fun," Jock muttered.

"Well, enough is enough." Jean retorted harshly.

Jock nodded.

"Wha-tsshh..." Felix muttered, snapping his hand forward then back and mimicking the sound of a whip to demonstrate that Jock was really pussy whipped at this point. The boys giggled.

Toodles stood up.

"My question is for Pan."

And the bar was lifted. Pan looked at Toodles with a satisfied grin, although Toodles was the last person he thought would engage Pan in the questionaire. However, he admired that kind of courage. Toodles cleared his throat.

"Do...ahem-sorry, i was still eating cake...Do you love Jean?"

Pan returned without hesitation, "You know the answer to that, Toodles." He leaned his head back into Jean's lap and said pointedly, "of course, I do."

Jean beamed. Pan situated himself so he sat with his legs bent in front of him, knees towards the sky and his elbows resting on them while he began carving a new set of pipes. He glanced back at her and said, "Don't stop." Jean continued massaging his shoulders.

"That was a stupid question to ask," Felix muttered.

"Well, then *you* ask one." Toodles rebounded, shrugging.

Slightly stood, looking at Jean, who met his gaze.

"Jean."

"Slightly." Jean returned and the boys giggled.

"When we were hunting for you the other night, what we were doing in the tree that occupied so much time?" Slightly asked.

"I was fucking Peter, what kind of question is that?" Jean responded callously.

Slightly was a bit perturbed. Maybe he had thought Jean would not answer for embarrassing reasons or maybe, thinking this, he might have had the upper hand in asking Jean to do some outrageous task. The reaction stunned even Pan, who had stumbled on the carving of his pipe and raised his eyebrows in response. Felix stood and smacked the back of Slightly's head.

"Pan said 'No boundaries'!" Slightly reasoned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just playing stupid game."

"It *is* part of the game," Jean reminded Felix, who grumbled some words and then sat back down, shaking his head and muttered something about disrespect and such. Jean moved her hands along Pan's shoulder blades, digging her fingertips. Pan groaned when she hit a knot, but a sigh of relief echoed soon after. Jean smiled, hearing that lovely noise.

"I don't know why we're playing this game-its not even..." Jock began.

Felix stood and said quickly, "Jock. I have a question for you."

"Damn it!" Jock hissed, pinching his eyes shut with the most regret Jean had ever seen.

"Do you like Jean?"

"Of course," Jock said quickly, laughing nervously.

"Not like a mother," Felix said carefully. "Do you like her in the same way that Devin does?"

Devin immediately stood and shook his head saying, "W-w-w-what do you mean 'like Devin does'? I certainly don't like Jean that way, like not in a like-like way, i like her in the-stop staring at me, guys!"

He was sweating profusely as he stood up and was almost hysterically upset. Jock stared at Devin incredulously and said to Felix hurriedly, "I...I mean I do but i don't."

"Do you...or do you not." Felix interrogated harshly. "It's one or the other. You cant have it both ways."

"It's-it's not an easy question," Jock said quickly. He glanced at Pan uncomfortably then at Felix with some kind of look that said 'you just threw me under the bus, you stupid fuck'; apparently, Felix had found the best way to point out Jock (and possibly Devin's) true nature, even if they had never acted on their feelings before.

"You like Jean, do you?"

Pan stood to his feet, smiling at Jock and Devin.

"I...well 'like' is such *strong* word," Devin offered and Jock shaking his head furiously agreeing.

"I can understand," Pan offered.

The two boys opened their mouths, shocked.

"You do?" Jock asked nervously.

"Of course i do," Pan said smoothly, waving his hands as though this was nothing. "Jean is a beautiful, smart, lovely girl. Of course you would like her. But my question isn't about that. It's what youd be willing to do to have a turn with her. What would you do if you could?"

Jean raised her eyebrows, a bit offended but more than anything: shocked. Those words actually came out of his mouth.

"Peter, I-"

"Not right now, babe." Pan responded, holding his hand.

Jean frowned, stepping forward and pushing his hand away.

"Don't tell me 'not right now'." Jean hissed.

Pan looked at her pointedly. That look, though.

"Devin. Jock. Go to bed." Jean ordered.

"But-"

"*You heard her*," Pan snapped.

"On it!" Devin and Jock sprinted back to the tree house with another word.

Pan turned around to look at Jean, who crossed her arms. They both looked at the rest of the boys. Felix took the initiative and raised his arms and yawned too long and said, "Well, i think its time for bed, boys...so...you know...let's go to bed."

"But i'm still hungry." Toodles protested.

"Time. To go. To. *Bed*." Felix emhasized, gesturing his eyes to the argument between Pan and Jean that was about to happen. Toodles caught on and he yawned too long a well.

"Is it that time already?" Toodles said loudly. "Sun's still up but man I am tired, yeah bed time is a good idea soooo good night Pan...Jean."

Felix and all of them started hustling away. Jean watched after them then she turned to Peter.

"Mind telling me where you were going with that conversation?" Jean questioned.

"No where, really." Pan offered. "I enjoy scaring the little ones from time to time."

"And what if they agreed to 'have a turn' with me?" Jean asked.

"I'd never let that happen." Pan said smoothly.

"What if i did?" Jean offered coldly.

Pan frowned, saying, "Then I would say 'good luck' and all, because we both know I am the only one who can handle you." He flashed a smug smile her way.

Jean narrowed her eyes at him.

"I feel like you're taking me on." Jean uttered, putting her hands on her hips.

"Well, the challenge is all mine." Pan responded.

At this point, it was hard to tell if they were still arguing or flirting. Maybe both? Jean could tell he meant his words and Pan could tell Jean had been offended by the suggestion of having just anyone take a turn with her. However, the distance between them was becoming smaller as they each had taken a step closer with every threat.

"Do you want to fight?" Jean asked.

"With you-No. But I like a good debate." Pan offered slyly, smirking at her.

"Im being serious."

Pan shrugged, saying, "Well, so was I. Arguing with you leads to amazing nights."

"Is that *all* that's on your mind, Peter? Sex?"

"How can it not?" Pan responded. "Your face, your voice..." He glanced her up and down, adding, "That body."

"You're a piece of work."

"And you're..." Pan began and struggled with a good comeback so he settled with, "Something else."

"I have a question for you." Jean said quietly.

"Oh, i thought the game ended."

"It hasn't."

"Well, pardon *me*." Pan replied smartly, holding up his hands in surrender.

"You answer my question. If i like your answer, you win. If i don't, you're sleeping all alone in that treehouse," Jean uttered coolly as she pointed behind her in the direction of the treehouse in which they'd spent countless nights sleeping together...and taking naps.

Pan became more serious, his savage smirk lost to an expression of solemn concern.

"Why do you love me?" Jean asked.

Pan stepped towards her.

"Because you make me feel young."

"Cheap answer, Peter-*Neverland* makes you young."

Pan smiled and said, "Well, it gives me the ability to appear young but i am older than i look." He shrugged, saying, "Even back then i had several years over you."

Jean knitted her eyebrows together, saying slightly skeptically, "What, so you're really an adult?"

Pan sighed deeply as though he couldn't believe that they were going to start in on this conversation, which he'd hoped he would never have. Pan nodded to her question.

"So you're really an adult in a boy's body?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever marry?"

"No." Pan said. "But..." He stopped himself.

"What?"

"It's...nothing. It's nothing."

Jean stopped him from leaving as he had intended and instead, she snatched his wrist.

"There's something you're not telling me." Jean said. "Peter, you know literally everything about me from my shoe size..."

"6." Pan responded.

"...To my darkest secret..." Jean uttered.

"You kissed your sister."

"Damn, not so loud!" Jean hissed. "Besides, i didn't know it was her until the stupid closet light came on...by that time, it was already over and-that's not the point! Peter, i thought i knew you. What else are you hiding from me?"

Pan gave her a look and said, "Is this part of the game, still?"

"I'm not playing anymore."

"Good, because i wasn't having fun anymore." Pan returned honestly.

"Tell me what you're keeping from me. I'll understand."

Pan said ironically, "The fact that you say you will makes me believe that you really would but you're not going to believe me."

Jean hardened her gaze as she said boldly: "*Try me*."

Pan then told her nonchalantly about how he became Peter Pan. From 'follow the lady' tragedy, to visiting the ladies who cared for his son while he 'looked' for a job.

"You have a child?" Jean asked, surprised.

Pan smiled in spite of himself and said, "I did tell you I'm older than I look."

Jean nodded, affirming that. She invited him to go on.

Pan then explained that his son, Rumplestiltskin, came across a magic bean and this would take them to a new land where no one knew them.

"Your son is Rumplestiltskin?" Jean asked.

Pan sighed tiredly, saying, "Are you going to keep interrupting me?"

"Sorry. Go on." Jean said.

Pan then explained (with much reassurance that Jean wouldn't interrupt again) how he and Rumple had arrived in Neverland via magical bean, but the attempt to fly had become futile when Pan had realized he was not welcome since he was an adult.

The Shadow then had taken Rumple because as long as he had a child, he would always be reminded that he was older. A child couldnt have a child.

Pan finished off with the fact that the Shadow had restored his youth, and that Rumple had been taken back to live with the other older biddies, but he had named himself after Rumple's doll, Peter Pan, in something of a remembrance.

At this point, Jean and Pan were in his treehouse. Pan appeared quite exhausted from the long tale. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped together as expelled the tale from his lips and by the end, he'd been hoarse. Jean, who was standing with her arms crossed, looked as though she lacked any kind of expression. There was no judgement on her face, but this only made Pan more curious and concerned as to how she would react.

Pan abandoning his only child in the same way that Jean had been abandoned time and time again. At some point of telling the story, Pan noticed Jean had been somewhat afflicted by the fact that he had traded his son for youth, but the expression had gone as quickly as it had appeared. Pan looked up at Jean, silently awaiting her reaction.

Jean was quiet for a long time. Minutes passed.

"Do you regret ever leaving him?" asked Jean.

Pan said honestly, "No."

"Did you ever love him?"

"I never loved Rumple." Pan said. "I was never meant to be a father."

Jean nodded, appearing to understand.

"But you were happy to join the process of making one."

Pan had no comment.

"What did the Shadow do after Rumple was gone?" asked Jean.

"I dont think you're prepared for that," Pan muttered.

"Tell me." Jean encouraged.

"Do you really want to know?" Pan asked carefully, looking from the ground to her in a meaningful, dangerous gaze.

Jean said softly, "I want to know the person i have been spending the last century with, Peter. Wouldnt you want the same thing? I want to know who i have been claiming to love."

Pan frowned, closing his eyes.

"If you wish it." Pan muttered. "But instead of telling you. How about i just show you."

Jean gave him an odd look, but instead, she allowed him to take her hand and with a fritz of pixie dust placed over the two of them, Pan guided her to the roof.

"Think lovely thoughts." Pan said softly in her ear. "And we can fly there."

Jean didn't exactly know where she was heading or for what reason, but Pan had told her everything thus far so she trusted him further.

She closed her eyes, and Pan watched her with a light expression on his face, wondering what thoughts and images came to her mind. Whatever they were, Jean was lifted off the ground and Pan flew with her; his thoughts were of he and Jean together on the island, laughing, being together-the passionate nights filled with heavy panting and love bites.

Pan flew them to Skull Rock. Jean landed on her feet, looking at the place with some more interest than fear.

Pan walked her up the stairs, his hand on the small of her back. Entering through the door, Jean turned in a circle on her feet, taking in the bones, and skulls. On top of the lot was a gigantic hour glass, filled with what appeared to be greenish gold fairie/pixie dust. There was more than half of the dust in the upper portion-at any time given, Jean always presumed this to be a good thing. She eyed it curiously, placing her hand on the glass. It was warm to the touch.

"What is this?" Jean asked.

"My life."

Jean looked at him, concerned.

"What do you mean?"

"When all the dust from the top is at the bottom, I will die." Pan stated-he truly wasnt one for tact. His brutal honesty was almost blunt force trauma and Jean remained stoic upon hearing of a timed demise. She turned to Pan.

"How long were you going to keep this from me?" Jean asked quietly, walking towards him.

"Well..." Pan began.

Jean frowned, saying, "You were never going to tell me."

"No." Pan said, smiling weakly. "I wasn't."

"Why not?"

"Aren't you worried?" Pan asked. "Scared?"

"Incredibly so." Jean confirmed, although her voice was unnaturally calm. "But keeping this from me..what were you hoping to achieve? Some life cure or something?"

"Something like that." Pan replied. He placed his hand out in front of him, palm up. He made a fist. "The Shadow said there could be a way. I found one."

"What way?"

"Guess there's no harm in telling you...now that you know." Pan uttered almost bitterly. He grimaced as he sighed and a scroll appeared in his hand; he opened his palm, and Jean carefully took it from him.

"I need to find this one." Pan said.

"A boy?" Jean asked, looking at the scroll.

"Yes. The heart of the truest believer. With his heart, i can stay young forever. And i can live forever."

"What about him?" asked Jean, turning the picture towards Pan. "What happens to him?"

"He'll die."

Jean stared at him, horrified.

"It's not a good thing-I know. But it's the only plan i have so far." Pan stated. "Besides, you've seen me kill other boys and never protested before. Besides, it's my best option i have and it's the only thing that will keep me living forever and i need to live forever."

"So sacrificing him is the best option?"

"It's my only option."

Jean said softly, "what about me? My heart? Why could my heart not work?"

Pan smiled at her saying, "Well, as long as we are being honest-I had considered that before."

Jean gave him a look.

"What?" Pan questioned. "There's a reason i said this boy was my *only* option. I wont lose you." He snatched the picture, rolling it up in its tie and stuck in his pocket; he softly muttered, "I can't."

"So you'd rather sacrifice a young boy...than lose me?" Jean asked.

"It sounds terrible, doesn't it?" Pan stated.

Jean walked towards him and she smiled...She actually smiled at him. Pan grunted when she suddenly threw herself towards him, arms around his neck and her mouth attacking his own; he returned it, after recovering from the initial shock, and was breathless when she finally broke the kiss.

"Thats the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me."

"Human sacrifice is romantic?" Pan asked.

Jean smiled, shrugging. "I'm a quirky girl, Peter. You know that better than anyone."

"I do now." Pan reassured. "More dark than anything but sure. 'Quirky' works too."

Jean shrugged, saying, "But now that i know your darkest secret. I will now tell you mine."

"You kissed your sister," Pan reminded.

"That's not my darkest secret. Thats just an embarrassing one-thanks for bringing it up again, by the way," said Jean sarcastically.

"What's your darkest secret, babe?"

"I would do anything to make you happy." Jean said softly.

"Welllll i already know that." Pan offered.

"What you don't know is what i have done." Jean returned.

Pan gave her a curious look.

Jean smiled and stepped back from him. She then pointed to the wall and from the fire set ablaze on the torches of the cave, Pan noticed something quite important as he gazed at the rock wall. Neither of them had shadows.

Pan slowly looked at her.

"Jean...What did you do?"

Jean smiled at him.

"Your shadow has no one," Jean said softly. "I thought he'd be lonely so i let him tag along with mine."

Pan stared at her.

"You're definitely a Mother." Pan said, shaking his head. "Always looking out for people. For me...and apparently my shadow."

Jean smirked saying, "Well, i definitely know for a fact you're a father so this really puts our roles in perspective."

She touched his neck, sliding her hands down his chest as she whispered softly and seductively into his ear, "Doesn't it...Daddy."

Pan raised his eyebrows at the unique pet name. He thought it would have sounded odd hearing it from Jean but damn, it was hot. Jean smiled at him as he was staring at her and the phenomenal sexual tension between them was back at it again.

"So..." Jean said as they appeared back in the treehouse. "What exactly do you plan on doing in finding this boy?"

"I have a number ideas, all of which are currently enacted. Granted, i have about four hundred years before i have to do anything about it but i like action." Pan said.

He lied down and she was lying down next to him.

"So...you told me that you love me because i make you feel young..." Jean uttered quietly. "Neverland makes you young."

"Neverland makes me *appear* young," Pan said pointedly. "You make me feel young all the time. Your face, your voice, your laugh...all of you really...makes me feel how i used to when i was a lad."

Jean turned in his arms and looked at him.

"Feeling is believing," Jean said lightly.

Pan kissed her softly. Softer than any other time. Jean returned it.

"Do i still call you Peter or Malcolm?" Jean asked.

"Peter."

"I love you, Peter."

"And i love you too, babe." He kissed her again and she beamed at him.


	3. Wake up call

Jean watched Pan sleep. It might have been creepy the way she was just sitting up, watching him slowly breathe in and then deeply exhale: a fully relaxed, completely vulnerable, Peter Pan. How many people could say they actually saw this side of him, or even his truer side?

A few weeks ago, he had come clean. About his becoming the King of Neverland, about his past life, about his entire being. The truth be told, Jean had become even more attracted to Pan, knowing at one point he had been a father (assuming the child never lived past a hundred).

Maybe that was why she had been attracted to him the beginning, because he could act like a boy but he seemed to make decisions like a man. Jean received best of both worlds, in a way...it also explained how Pan knew his way around a woman...then again, they'd been together nearly a century so they had all that time to discover one another's kinks and desires.

It had been an adventure discovering hers. And Jean had become all the more excited to find that he could satiate both the gentle loving creature that moved on a day to day basis and the feral beast that would scratch his back, bite his shoulder, and become rougher than a mermaid caught on deck.

He could make her docile and calm her down with the soothing tone of his voice, or make her crazy with the same weapon. And just as easily, Jean could calm him down with a touch, or goad him into killing a Lost Boy-not that he needed much persuasion. It was a game to him.

Jean watched Pan mumble something in his sleep, and he turned on his side, facing her. They were naked, having spent the last several night becoming closer and closer, and the love making had become even more amazing than before. Jean had thought that impossible until last night when it seemed to last for hours. She felt pride when she noticed the long, red scratches down his arms and his back. Last night had been particularly crazy.

Jean decided she was going to wake him up differently. She slipped under the fluffy covers and moved down so her head was over his hips. Toned, tanned, fabulous Pan-naked and all hers. jean smirked as she kissed the inside of his thigh. She heard him mumble something, but it was inarticulate.

She slowly separated his legs, moving in between them, kissing the tip of his member . She listened for his reaction. She put a little bit of him inside her mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip of a growing erection. Jean massaged his inner thighs with her thumb, lightly just enough pressure to make it noticeable but not so much that it was digging.

Pan rolled on his back.

Jean took more of him in her mouth, sucking a little. She felt hands on her head, fingers lacing through her tangled hair. A soft moan could be heard outside of the blanket; Jean moved one hand to the base of his cock and whatever part of him that didnt fit in her mouth, she began squeezing lightly; Jean took him all in her mouth suddenly and Pan moaned her name.

His fingers in her hair clenched, pulling at her locks tighter.

She bobbed her head up and down, sucking a little harder. He was rock hard, fully erected, and she could hear him trying to restrain his sounds, but Jean was smirking, also sweaty-there was absolutely no ventilation under the damn blanket. Suddenly as if her life depended on it, Jean pushed the blanket away from her, revealing herself lying down on her stomach, propped by her elbows and Pan looked down at her, his expression one of pleasure and need.

"Don't stop, babe. For the love of..." Pan began, but Jean contended his plea and placed her mouth on him again, satisfying him.

Jean inwardly chuckled when she felt him reposition himself so he could further her ambitions; he was slightly thrusting into her mouth, giving a subtle hint that he wanted more. Jean's hands grabbed his hips and then took all of him, down to the hilt, down her throat.

Pan didn't hold back his moans as they came out all at once. Jean enjoyed the sounds he made from his effortful grunts, to the frustrated sighs, the pleasurable exhales, the sharp inhales when she sent pleasure throughout his body, and the moans he exuded, her name echoing from his lips when she would push him further to the edge. Jean could hear him getting closer to that peak, and just teetering on that edge.

Pan shifted the tables on her though; he pulled her off him and then pushed Jean on her back. He hurriedly separated her legs, so she was splayed before him. Pan wasted no time, moving his fingers along her pussy, touching his index between the flesh, pink lips to feel her; she was slick, wet, and ready for him. All it took it seemed was for her to hear him make any kind of pleasurable sound and her body was ready.

"That's my girl," Pan growled, smirking at her.

Jean bit her lip when he moved between her legs; his hands on her thighs, his cock rock hard and ready. She wasn't surprised that this would be another wonderful morning but this was going to be different. Pan made sure of it. He held a hand up above her and within a few seconds, Jean felt her hand unable to move. She looked up at the bed rails where her hands been resting and her lips contorted into a crooked grin when she realized they were now tied tightly to it.

"You like morning wake up calls." Pan noted. "As do I."

Jean bit her lip again when he hovered her; his hands moved underneath her knees, spreading her legs as far as they would go. Jean was breathless, panting a little, anticipating every move but not exactly sure what would happen next. Pan was unpredictable. She liked it that way.

"I like seeing you this way." Pan uttered in a seductive voice of his own. "So beautiful." His eyes flickered over to Jean's restraints as she was needlessly trying to get out-not that she wanted to. He admired perky breasts, the slight poof of her abdomen; not all girls had to be skinny. She was a good medium built.

"Normally, I like being rough. With you, especially. But after last night, I want to take this as slow..." He kissed her neck. "And agonizingly long as possible. You want to know what it's like when time stands still?"

Jean smiled when he lowered his lips to her ear, closing her eyes when heard his voice so lowly whisper in her ear.

"I am going to educate you this morning." Pan uttered softly.

Jean moaned into his kiss that came after, his lips soft against hers, so gentle. It was frustrating, but different. Pan licked her bottom lip, and she let out a whimper when she felt his cock graze her entrance.

"That's right, babe. We're still going to have fun." Pan promised. "But right now, you'll see just what Daddy is capable of."

Jean could feel her ovaries exploding. He used her pet name for him. The simplest of titles that gave her such a daddy kink, she could have orgasmed just by his use of the word. Pan smirked when he saw her mouth part slightly; it would be his luck to find the perfect girl who just happened to have a kink for fathers.

"Peter..."

"Quiet." Pan ordered.

Jean looked at him, her natural instinct was to become defiant but she recognized that dominant, dismissive tone. Pan was in control of all aspects of this game...this very dirty...wet...restraining game. Jean's thoughts flittered over every single sexual tryst she had with Pan, and none of them seemed to compare to how much arousal she felt currently.

"Let's see just how wet you can get. Shall we?" Pan asked.

Pan moved down the bed, propping by his elbows. Jean saw his back muscles flex at that point and she wanted him dearly. Pan lowered his head to her hips, his lips kissing them as though he might as well been kissing her. So lovingly, so gently, his lips left a hot trail of wetness and burning as he moved down wind. Jean watched him lick her inner thigh and she could feel her core becoming even hotter.

Pan placed his hand on her sex, his fingers sliding just along her folds for a feel. Jean watched a more than satisfied smirk appear on his face, and just as simply, he sighed, exhaling a small breeze on her skin. It was fucking cold and brought a chill up and down her back.

He placed his arms around her legs, his hands cupping her inner thighs and he gripped them for a reason. When he moved his mouth from her inner thigh to her pussy, Jean immediately headed for the hills; her back arched, her head tilted back and her hips bucked involuntarily to him. Pan chuckled amusedly.

Pan could hear her breathing heavily, watching her every move as he licked her clit in circles and then sucked animatedly. She was tender and sensitive in all the right places. Pan made her frantic and wild when he moved his tongue inside her pussy, tasting her, wanting her. She fought against her restraints as beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and down her back.

"Peter...Oh my god-I..mmmm!" Jean moaned. Her toes curled as she was climbing quickly to her peak, and the constant tongue rolling inside her sex was driving her crazy. She was coming strongly, and Pan lifted her hips, still eating her out and never stopping.

"Peter, stop-I c-cant-uhhhhh!" She came again. And again. Jean felt like she was dying but never having felt more alive.

"Don't lie to me, Jean-you could do this all week." Pan stated smugly, licking his lips of her. She tasted sweet.

Jean was a panting, hot mess and she winced slightly with sensitivity and anticipation when she felt his fingers slide again between her folds.

"I'm not done with you yet." Pan uttered.

Jean whimpered as he took her mouth with his, their kiss strong and passionate. She enjoyed the little tongue battle in her mouth; she tasted herself on his tongue, and it caused her to feel even more aroused.

"Damn it, Peter." Jean mumbled, and then moaned in a hot minute when she felt two of his finger slide into her pussy; he worked her over until she was pining for release, and he was still kissing her. She came again and she nearly whimpered this time around when he entered three fingers this time around. His other hand moved to her clit, rubbing in circles. Jean's hips rolled with his rhythm, her body a pawn to his every movement and gesture.

"You're mine, Jean. No one else can handle you like I can." Pan growled in his own need. "You belong to *me*." As if on cue, hearing him say those words, Jean fell off the edge of the earth as she screamed for him, her voice cracking.

Pan knew she was spent, and he pulled off her wrist restraints. Her face was flushed pink, sweat dripping down every inch of her body. She almost appeared tortured, but in the most pleasant of ways. Pan shoved his lips onto hers; she responded with fervor-what a trooper.

Pan took her hips and moved her to him. She slid down the covers with no resistance at all. Jean uttered some words but they were inaudible. He spread her legs again, and placed himself between them, his hard cock pulsing and throbbing. Seeing her like this made him want her so much, her eyes glazed over with lust, her chest rising and falling.

"Fuck me." Jean told him. That was a clear command. Not a request.

Pan smirked at her, saying, "Ask me nicely."

"Fuck me anyway you want. Do it. Please."

Pan could still be surprised by her mouth. The things that came out of those red lips could drive him insane.

Jean locked her legs around his waist, and pulled him to her.

"Fuck me, Peter. Hard. Fuck me until i can't walk later tomorrow, until i can't make heads or tails of where i am." Jean coaxed him, her hands on his hips; she lowered her fingers further to his cock, and stroked him. "Show me just how hard you can fuck, Peter."

Pan was still impressed by her dirty mouth but the last part took him only a second to comprehend as he honored the lady's wishes and thrusted himself so quickly, so deeply inside that Jean screamed. He didn't stop, either. She wanted to see just how rough he could play? Fine then-she was getting what she wanted.

Pan gave her everything he had-all of his frustrations of so far faulty planning, all the quarrels he had with Felix and the Lost Boys, and, of course, all that pent up sexual frustration he had while teasing and taunting the little breath of fire beneathe him. All of it-he put into Jean. He was pounding inside her, hearing her cries of pleasure and her screams. Her hands clenched the blanket, which she threw ahead and clawed at the exposed bed sheets, her fingernails digging so deep that they tore through the sheets. Pan found that the bed had a lot of recoil as he would thrust hard into her and the mattress would spring her forward, jacking up his rhythm so without including her in the decision, he moved them from the bed, to the floor in one movement.

Jean got to her hands and knees and Pan had moved behind her. She made a small movement to get away, but he caught her hips and shoved himself inside of her. Jean was jello as she fell to the floor; Pan held her hips and as he thrusted inside, he would move to her towards him to gain extra leverage.

Pan demonstrated just how animalistic he could be. All that frenzy, and power. Jean's mouth stayed open in a constant state of pleasure overload, her moans were consistent and unintelligent sounds echoing from her lips. Pan felt his release about to approach. Jean could feel it too.

She fumbled to her knees and lied on her back so in the next thrust, Pan was pushing inside of her and wrapping his arms around her. Jean wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting her hips to him to quicken his ascension to climax. He looked distressed as he was climbing to that peak; Jean smirked at him, knowing just how to get him there.

"Come on, baby," Jean murmured. She moved her lips to his ear. "Come inside of me, Peter."

"Keep talking like that," Pan grunted. This release was going to be stronger than any he'd ever felt, he could tell that already.

"I want your cock so deep inside of me it hurts." Jean moaned in his ear.

Pan growled. He grabbed her ass in a vice like grip. Jean moaned in response.

"Fuck..." Jean whimpered. She felt another climax happening. "Oh my god...Im about to come again."

Pan was getting there. So close. Soo, fucking close. And Jean's voice became a soft, whimper as she moaned, "Make me come. Oh my god, i want you so much, please, baby."

That was the edge, and Pan felt himself release-Jean heard him moan almost non-stop, his facial expression evolving from distress, to intense pleasure and then relief. Jean felt her own release and she arched her back, feeling it take over her. Pan moved off her when the two finally had caught their breaths. Shaking, and exhausted, they looked at each other.

"I'm gonna be sore for a week," Jean muttered as she wobbled to her feet.

Pan laughed, watching her legs shake underneathe her. He got to his feet...and then fell back down seconds after. It was Jean's turn to laugh. Pan sighed and used the bed as a support system, crawling onto it. Jean joined him, lying her head on his chest.

"Some morning wake up call." Jean mumbled.

Pan laced his fingers through her hair and chuckled; she practically heard the rumble of it in his chest.

"You are something else." Pan mumbled.

"So you keep saying." Jean responded tiredly.

She kissed him on the cheek, and he smiled at her.


	4. They Wind Up Dead

As Jean predicted, she was hurting the week that followed. Lord knew that the boys didn't have to ask why; they'd heard her and Pan all night. While the camp fire roared that night, the boys did their chores while Jean sat with her back against a large square-like rock. Felix approached her with a stick and a knife, offering her something to do until the boys came back from the hunt. Tonights dinner was either wild boar or fish-if they could not catch a pig, then it would be fish. Simple choices.

"Thank you, Felix." Jean said, and Felix nodded.

He then left with the boys. Jean stood up, though, and when the boy had gone, she pulled out her own pipe that she had been carving away. Placing the instrument to her lips, Jean blew softly the notes of a song she still remembered years and years ago and it was the lullaby from *Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe*. As she played the notes, she swayed her hips slightly, only lifting her feet with the breath of her notes. She became lost to the sound those pipes made, and she thought of Pan playing them.

Jean blew the notes into the pipes, lost to the sound, lost to her surrounding. Lost to the hypnotic lullaby she whispered.

Pan watched her. He was impressed amongst the many other feelings had as he watched the love of his life play a melody so dangerous yet so peaceful that he found it similar to a siren's song. It wasn't just the pull of the music that brought him to her; it was her peaceful affect, that relaxed way she simply lost herself. Her eyes were closed but not pinched shut; her face, completely relaxed; and the way she swayed from one foot to the other. She was truly at peace.

Pan smiled genuinely. At the moment he had heard her play, he fell in love with her all over again.

He touched her shoulder when he had approached her and the music suddenly stopped and to his neck, she held a knife threateningly. Seeing his face, Jean stopped and lowered her knife slowly.

"What the hell, Peter. I almost..." Jean placed the knife back in her boot, looking at him uncertainly.

Pan smirked saying, "I like that reaction, though."

He glanced at her pipes.

"So do you play other songs? Not that the one you were playing wasn't beautiful." Pan noted.

Jean blushed.

"Actually, that's the only song i know."

"Is it." Pan stated. "i play one for the Lost Boys all the time."

Jean shook her head, smiling: "I can't hear it, Peter."

"You can't?" Pan returned, surprised. "Interesting."

"Not really. I've not heard it since i came to Neverland. You can't hear the music for Lost children if you are not lost." Jean pointed out. She smiled again, saying, "I haven't felt lost or unloved since i left my world and came to live in yours with you."

Pan frowned, and said, "Then i suppose it's a good thing."

"Very much so." Jean agreed, wondering why he sounded more disappointed than happy.

There was a moment between them. The realization that Jean was no longer technically a Lost Girl but the fact that she lived in Neverland, the fact that she dwelled amongst the other Lost Ones just meant she belonged. She belonged in Neverland, with the children, with him. Pan wasn't sure he could ever feel so close to someone as he did with Jean and that feeling reoccurred time and time again. If he had to live without her, he would surely be Lost.

"What's wrong, Peter?"

"Huh?"

"You look really deep in thought," Jean noted.

"Oh-I was just wondering where the boys were at."

"Hunting. You know that." Jean answered, looking down at her pipes. She smiled gently at him and then took her seat at the fire.

"Oh...right...i guess i did."

Pan watched her.

"Jean."

"Yes?"

"Have you ever regretted your decision to live with me here in Neverland?" Pan asked seriously, sitting next to her.

Jean gave him a curious look.

"No. Never." She answered honestly. "Not even once."

"Do you ever think about leaving?"

"Leaving Neverland?" Jean questioned. "I can't imagine doing such a thing. Why?"

He shrugged, saying, "No reason."

Jean stared at him, perturbed. She took his hand in hers and he looked at her curiously.

"You're acting strange." Jean said.

"How am I acting strange?" Pan asked. "I'm not acting strange. You're acting strange. You odd...person, you."

Jean stared at him. There was something off about him and she planned on figuring out what, but there was something else tugging at her gut.

There was more wrong at this moment than just his behavior towards her. Earlier this morning they had been fucking and he had gone on a tangent about how they had such plans for Neverland and after getting the boy's heart, he would be more powerful than any magical practitioner on earth and when that happened, he could build her a kingdom or something like that.

He and Jean had been flirting madly for the past *week* and now he was acting sooo strangely.

Jean narrowed her eyes at Pan...or at least this person who claimed to be him.

"Peter."

"Yes, love?'

"Are you sure everything is okay?" Jean asked softly.

"Of course. Everything is really, really okay. More than okay, actually. I just like being with you." He said, taking her hand in his.

Jean narrowed her eyes again. Pan was acting really weird. Like punch-in-the-throat-too-nice kind of weird. Jean looked at him, feeling all too weirded out by this nice side of him.

"Peter."

"Yes, darling?"

"Have *you* ever thought of leaving Neverland?" asked Jean softly.

"Time to time. But sometimes, i think about whether or not you and i were really meant to be together. I mean..."

"Wait." Jean interrupted.

Pan looked at her, this time a little uncertain.

Jean's red flags were going up. One: her Peter pan never wanted to leave Neverland. And two: he voiced before that he always felt they were meant to be together: that's why he had sought her after she appeared to him in his dreams on the nightly. Plus, Jean suspected something; while Pan wasn't particularly mean to her, he also wasn't so lovey dovey...that's the part she liked the most. And now Pan was acting like a nervous little boy around her...like...how the Lost Boys acted.

Jean narrowed her eyes. Hmmmmmm.

"A couple weeks ago i told you a dark secret... One of my darkest secrets that only you and i know about." Jean said quietly. "After that secret, I told you what i had done to prove to you that i would do anything for you. What was it that i had done?"

"You...You..." Pan began but the doubt that crossed his face told Jean everything she needed to know. She glared at him, and spotted around his neck was a necklace; attached to it was a small vial of glowing pixie dust.

"You're not Peter Pan." Jean stated calmly. She ripped off the necklace, opened the jar of pixie dust, and threw it aside; it floated into the night sky. Jean turned to see Pan's body fading into that of Jock. He looked horrified.

"Jean!"

Felix and the Lost Boys had arrived, and just as they did, Pan appeared. He looked a bit confounded and pissed, but seeing Jean with the emptied glass vial in her hand and the pissed off expression on her face as well, Pan and the Lost Boys knew that Jean had seen through Jock's trick.

[A few moments later]

Jock was tied to a rock placed just away from the water's edge of Mermaid Lagoon. When the high tide came in, it would be levelled enough for the mermaids to pass through and the bound boy would meet his fate quickly. The other Lost Boys were left at camp while Felix remained behind with Jean and Pan. Pan leaned his body against the rock while Felix finished tying Jock to the rock.

"Can't we talk about this-it was just a silly prank." Jock explained nervously.

"You can talk," Felix said, "but i doubt it will get you anywhere."

Jean approached Jock, her eyes staring him down. She held out the empty vial.

"Where did you get the pixie dust."

"From the fairies."

Jean slapped him across the face. Hard.

Pan gave her a look, impressed, his eyebrow raised with pleasant surprise. This was actually the first time he'd ever really seen Jean royally pissed; it suited her well. Jean held out the vial again.

"I know you get pixie dust from fairies-I'm not stupid; i was not born yesterday." Jean stated irritably. "Do i have 'stupid' written on my forehead?"

"Actually, you do have a bit of dirt." Pan remarked ironically. "Just above your eye-not there, no, you still didn't get it. It's-there you go. It's all gone."

"Thanks." Jean said, rubbing the rest of her forehead with the water from the sea.

"No problem, babe."

"Now." Jean said softly. She looked at Jock. "I know where you got the dust. I'm saying 'how'."

"T-Tinkerbell gave it to me."

"Funny. i don't see her being the treacherous type."

Pan intervened saying, "She isn't. She has a treehouse some miles down from here. Really campy-comfortable even."

Jean smiled at him then turned her dagger glares to Jock.

"Why would she give you dust?"

"She...she..."

"Tink's a friend so i suggest you choose your next words carefully." Jean uttered. "But since you're stupid enough to go to her for help, i can imagine she gave it to you because you declared you wanted your happy ending. She loves giving those to people-being a fairy and all."

"You."

Jean gave him a look, saying dangerously, "Excuse me."

"You are my happy ending."

"Watch it," Felix hissed.

"I'm gonna die either way, i might as well say it." Jock whimpered. "If the mermaids don't kill me, Pan will!"

"Probably," Pan remarked nonchalantly. He sounded bored.

Jean sighed, "What would you have accomplished by being Peter?"

"I wanted...god, i wanted to get you to hate him."

Pan and Felix cracked up at that moment.

"Hate me?" Pan said. "You have no idea what a stupid idea that was."

Jean smiled as Pan leaned forward, getting down to Jock's level.

"I would say to try harder next time but for you, there won't be." Pan threatened. He looked at Felix, nodding to him.

"Wait...wait...hold on, wait-you can't just leave me here!" Jock cried as Felix tightened the knots. Pan and Jean had turned to leave. Pan placed his arm around Jean's shoulders as Jean placed hers around his waist and they just kept on walking, laughing about something.

Felix sighed, shaking his head.

"I told you not to act on those thoughts, Jock. And now, you made your bed." Felix uttered with resolve, glancing at the ocean. "Now you have to lie in it." He cringed when the tide started coming in, and along with it came the mermaids.

"Felix, wait!"

Felix walked away, shaking his head. He caught up to Pan and Jean and as their footprints left the sand, Pan glanced behind them to see the mermaids ripping the rope in shreds with their nails and teeth and bringing a flailing and screaming lost boy out from the shore and dragging him to the sea. The last sound Jock made was the bloody murder scream of being dragged underwater.

That's what happened to people that tried to take Jean away from Pan. They always wound up dead.


	5. Guard Her

The other Lost Boys inquired about Jock's disappearance. It was just easier to say that the boy fell off the edge of the earth than try to explain that Jean, Felix, and Pan had tied him to a rock in Mermaid Lagoon; soon after the mermaids had swarmed and ripped him left and right and his entrails became his extrails. Actually...it was easier to say the last, but it just seemed better off keeping with the old gullible explanation.

"He was eaten by a crocodile." Felix said.

"He was killed by the pirates." Jean lied.

"We tied him to a rock in Mermaid Lagoon and when the tide ran high, the mermaids swarmed and ripped him left to right; his entrails became his extrails." Pan told the lads the next night around the campfire.

Felix and Jean looked at with expressions of 'wtf, Pan' but the King looked unaffected.

The other Lost Boys stared at the three of them as though trying to figure out if they all should be fleeing for their lives or did Jock behave so badly that his punishment warranted such a severe end? Then again...Pan seemed to care enough that a traitor to the Lost Ones was a traitor to him as well and the avenging of lost loyalty among friends seemed top priority. So at this point, they didnt know if they should be scared, angry, or even happy that jock was gone.

It was hard to dictate what to do or say next because of Pan's calm demeanor.

He was carving more details into his musical pipe, more interested in this project than coming up with reasons as to why Jock had died the way he did.

Finally, Felix made a sordid announcement.

"Jock stole Pixie dust from the good fairy, Tinkerbell; he used her magic to trick all of us, including our mother." Felix stated. "What he did was disrespectful and not in the way of the Neverland. He had what was coming to him."

"So..." Devin began slowly. "He died because...because he liked Jean?"

"No." Pan said sternly, standing to his feet. "That's silly. He died because he tried turning Jean against me...against *us*." His voice became stronger and more charismatic.

"I admit I am not the most well-behaved boy on the island, and i know none of you are really any different. But anyone who tries to turn her against me is an enemy of mine."

There was silence, for the exception of crackling embers. Whenever it became this silent, Jean could always hear the quiet sobs of boys crying for their parents, to go back home. Those were the voices of people who visited here in their dreams; that did explain why one day, there would be countless bodies and then the next, not very many. The boys that had come with Pan from his long ago tour had stayed, and most of them had come thus far...well, except for Jock.

Jean stood to her feet, as well, walking over to Pan who glanced at her.

"For the record," Jean pointed out gently, "it is impossible to turn me against Peter, so before any one else tries-it wont happen."

She beamed at Peter, adding, "Peter Pan is the only love for me."

Felix smiled, as did the rest of the lot. Devin still appeared a little unhappy, but after hearing what had happened to the other boy that had confessed their undying love for the Queen of Neverland, he was sure never to say another word about his own love for the eccentric queen...at least, not aloud.

There was a lot of cheering when Jean kissed Pan, and he returned it. It was almost same reaction newlyweds would receive right after they said their vows and the priest gave permission for the groom to seal the wedding with a kiss. The eruption of hooting and hollering drowned out the cries of lost little boys, and another party began. With the seriousness gone, the boys relaxed as though nothing had happened.

However, Devin watched Pan and Jean. Devin feared Jean, but his love for her could have dulled any fear, any venom, any wound...except the envious pain of knowing he could never have who he considered to be his true happy ending.

[Later that night]

Pan watched Jean as she turned restlessly in her sleep. She was naked under the sheets, a contrast to him now as he dressed himself. He placed his dagger in the sheathe of his brown leather belt, alongside his pipe; he glanced at the brunette goddess lying in his bed. She spoke in her sleep, mumbling something about 'faith, trust, and pixie dust' and Pan chuckled quietly to himself.

She moved in the covers again, the blanket falling below her chest so her breasts were exposed.

Pan heard movement downstairs.

He pulled on his boots and then leaned over Jean's body, covering her up to her neck. Then ever so softly, he kissed the corner of her mouth. To his surprise, Jean returned it.

"Where are you going at this time of night?" Jean asked hoarsley.

Pan sat on the side of the bed, one arm on each side of her as he steadied himself.

"I have business to take care of." Pan told her.

"What kind of business?"

"Serious business." Pan returned.

"Busyyyy, busyyyy, busyyyy..." Jean hummed, smiling at him.

That smile nearly took Pan's breath away.

"I'll be back before morning." Pan reassured.

Jean nodded. She held out her hand and with her index finger, she gestured him to move closer. Pan leaned towards her and she kissed him. The kiss itself was sweet and short, but with the gentle caress of his face with her hands, this made it feel so much more meaningful. Pan looked at her when she pulled away.

"Be careful." Jean said sleepily.

Pan smirked, saying, "You know I never am." He stood up, and tucked her in. "Go back to sleep. I'll be back."

"Love you."

"I Love you too." Pan returned.

He watched her turn on her side and fall asleep. Afterwards, he came down the staircase, stopping halfway to close the hatch above. He glided his palm in a half circle across the lock and it clicked into place. Meeting him at the bottom was Felix, who met his gaze with the same kind of seriousness.

"You asked for me, Pan?"

"That, I did." Pan confirmed. "I have business to take care of."

"Need help?"

"Not with this," said Pan, smirking. "Just making a trip to Hamelin. Can't have too many friends."

"Are you sure?" Felix prompted with a deadpan voice, reminding Pan of what just happened with Jock.

"Don't be uptight, Felix." Pan said, snickering. "After what happened last night, the stories will be exaggerated and the new boys will know not to come between Jean and me. But...you can't be too careful. Which is actually why I called you up here."

Felix looked at him curiously.

"After what happened with Jack..."

"Jock," Felix corrected.

"Whatever." Pan said dismissively, waving a hand carelessly at the matter. "After his tricks, I cant trust Jean to be alone. Sure, the shadow can protect her, but he can not watch the entire island AND keep an eye on Jean while I'm away."

Felix raised his head in expectancy when Pan looked up at the ceiling where his happiness was sleeping. The emotion that briefly flickered in his eyes made Felix immediately understand what was being asked of him.

Pan stepped towards Felix.

"I need you to watch over Jean. Make sure nothing happens to her while I am gone." Pan said sternly.

"I'll keep an eye on her." Felix said.

"I'm trusting you, Felix."

"Nothing will happen to her." Felix promised. He smiled: "I care about her a great deal, Pan. Trust me. She'll be under my protection."

Pan nodded, reassured. He placed a hand on Felix's shoulder.

"Thank you, my friend." Pan said. "If something does happen, tell me the moment i get back. You know where you can find me."

Felix nodded.

That said, Pan glanced up at the ceiling again, but only seeing his love. He looked at Felix one last time, then left the treehouse. The eldest Lost Boy remained, sitting on the stair case, his eyes ever watchful as he guarded the precious maternal love of Neverland and the love of Peter Pan.


	6. Fishing With Felix

Jean yawned loudly, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head. She had vaguely remembered the conversation she had with Pan last night, but his reassurance that he would be back in the morning remained with her. When she glanced to the other side of the bed and saw only sheets, she frowned.

Not exactly worried, but still a bit concerned, Jean stood and dressed quickly. She pulled aside the curtain, and started down the stairs but was stumped by the fact that no matter how hard she tried pulling up the hatch door by the dumb bell, it would not budge.

Damn it, Peter.

Jean sighed with exasperation. Pan had become more overprotective than ever since Jock's stupid act, and even though the idiot was gone, the idea of her being ripped away from him made Pan obsessive...and normally, Jean didn't mind but at this point, she found his possessiveness currently unbearable.

She looked across the room and smiled at the window. Crawling through the opening, carefully stepping out of the hollow tree, Jean held onto any part of the treehouse she could. To no avail, she lost her footing and tumbled down the thing, screaming "aAhhhhhh!" and immediately silenced when she hit the earth below none too gracefully.

Jean lifted her head from the mulch-y dirt, spitting out leaves, dirt, and other stuff that smelled and tasted like dirt. Getting to her feet, Jean brushed off the earth from her dress and legs, looking up to see just how far she had fallen. Seeing the height, she was impressed she hadn't twisted a limb. Just as she regained her regal posture, she squeaked when a spear poked her arm.

Jean immediately shot her hand down her boot, snatching the blade and un-sheathing in a second's time as she suddenly turned and with the spear tip to her throat, she had her own weapon against the neck of her would-be attacker. Seeing Felix, she growled; he, too, looked both irritated and relieved.

"Felix...damn it. Why are you here?" Jean snapped.

"I should i ask you the same." Felix retorted.

Jean blinked, saying, "I live here, you idiot."

"I thought you were in bed."

"I am-er, well, I was." Jean returned. She gave him a weird look. "Why were you in the treehouse-Did you know i was locked up there this entire time?!"

Felix lowered his spear and Jean did the same with her knife. Felix sighed calmly, now that his defense was down. Still, he eyed her carefully as though wondering if she was really Jean or this was a trick.

Jean did the same with Felix, wondering if he was really Felix or just another foolish Lost Boy with pixie dust.

Damn...Jean could understand why Pan felt the way he did. It was as though Jock left more behind than a leg or an ear; lack of trust had spread among the entourage, and she and Felix had become great examples of it.

"I have to know it's really you." Felix uttered helplessly, his spear raised to meet her head. "I have to know if you're the real Jean."

Jean smiled, saying, "Ask me a question. Something only you and the real Jean would know."

Felix looked at her still, staring at her.

"What were the first words you said to me when i came up to say 'hello'." Felix said quietly.

Jean smirked, saying, " 'Who are you and why are you talking to me'."

Felix chuckled. He lowered his spear.

"I'm assuming you are the real Felix then since you know this as well." Jean reasoned smoothly, gesticulating to his calm demeanor.

Felix nodded.

"That's that ...why were you in the treehouse?" asked Jean, sheathing her dagger while he propped his spear alongside him.

"Pan." Felix said and that explained a great deal.

Jean sighed: "Did he ever come back?"

"Not yet." Felix said. "But he's fine."

"Where is he?"

"Taking care of business," said Felix vaguely.

Jean gave him a look as she emphasized, "*Where* is he, Felix?"

Felix sighed, rolling his eyes.

"You know," he said, "you wanna talk about how protective Pan is over you, but i really can see it going both ways. You two are territorial over each other, it's kind of adorable."

"Don't be ridiculous," Jean scoffed. "I'm not adorable."

"I dare to disagree."

"You dare, indeed." Jean said, smirking at him. A moment passed and Jean looked around then asked him, "Have you eaten yet?"

He shook his head 'no'.

"I'm feeling trout this morning." Jean offered. "Wanna go fishing?"

"Sure." Felix said, smiling at her.

He walked alongside her as they headed to the shores of Neverland. Past Pixie Woods where Pan's secret Thinking Tree stood...the place where he had abandoned his son. Jean gave the woods a curious glance but continued walking. Felix kept his eye on her, every now and then he'd glance behind to make sure they weren't being followed. They came close to the edge of Neverland, the ocean stretching before them for miles and miles.

Jean unlaced her boots, bending down to take them off and then kicking them aside. Felix joined her in the process, rolling up his pants and also kicking off his shoes. As they readied themselves for the catch of the day, Jean continued to interrogate.

"So where is he?" Jean asked.

"Look-I..."

"Felix, before you give me another vague answer, i should remind you that i have tried my hand at target practice and i never have missed a target." Jean said sweetly, but the venom laced in the words was enough of a warning that Felix sighed in surrender.

"He is-or at least *was* in Hamelin."

"Bringing more children?" Jean assumed.

"Of course."

"Can't imagine why-there's a great deal of you already," Jean muttered. She waded into the water, her feet making contact with the sludgey, yet soft sand. She curled her toes with childish joy as she felt the sand smush between them.

"Jean."

"Yes, Felix."

"While we have a moment, I want to tell you something."

Jean raised an eyebrow, and then slowly turned to him. A bit tired of hearing boys professing their love to her, she opened her mouth to protest before Felix could regret his words, but Felix reassured her with a chuckle and a smile.

"Nothing like that." Felix stated.

"Oh." Jean returned, a bit surprised. "Well, fine. I don't like you either."

Felix laughed at her cynical response and she laughed too. All in good fun. Felix held his spear over the water, skimming the surface for unsuspecting fish. Jean mirrored him, her dagger twirled in her hand and held in a fighter's position rather than the defense.

"Some of the boys and i were talking last night," Felix said conversationally. "And I told them that i would tell you."

"Tell me what." Jean said, although she was distracted by the sparkling fish underneath.

"There are days when we wish you were our mother. Our *real* mother."

Jean stopped staring at the fish and she looked up at Felix. He was looking at her, paying no mind to the fish.

"You're the mom we wish we had." Felix explained lightly, although he seemed to do everything in his power not to make it sound as lovey dovey as it did. Granted, even the Shadow couldn't keep something as endearing as that from sounding sweet.

Jean smiled at him.

"Thank you, Felix. That's very sweet."

"I thought you should know that." Felix said, shrugging. "Anyway...I see a good sized one over here."

"Same." Jean responded, targeting her prey. "If we leave here with twice of what we came for, this will be a good morning. On three."

"Wait. Do we go *on* three, or before three, or right after you say three." Felix asked.

"Well, i was going to say 'one, two, three,' and then we go after i finish saying 'three'." Jean explained.

"What if we go 'one, two...' and then we strike at 'three'." Felix prompted.

Jean rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile.

"How about when i say 'go' we go." Jean offered.

"That's better." Felix said.

"Thank you."

"It's a good idea."

Jean giggled, "I thought so too. That's why i said it."

"Alright let's do this." Felix said, taking a stance.

"Alright. On my mark. Ready..." Jean said. She then commanded, "GO!"

Simultaneouly, Jean and Felix struck the water and when they both raised their weapons to reveal a fish on each tip, Felix and Jean whooped together and slapped a hard high-five.

They were walking back to camp and found the Lost Boys starting a fire. Jean handed the woven bag of fish to Felix, who took it. Jean smiled at him as she joined the Lost Boys. Being told personally that she was a mother to some of them made her feel differently towards them. She felt even a little protective of them.

This might be a bad thing, she considered.

But for now, she was fine with it. Felix congratulated her and himself on the catch of the day and as the fish fried on the low camp fire, the boys erupted into a loud applause.

These kids would celebrate anything.


	7. Magic Is Emotion

A/N: All reviews are appreciated but not necessary, so leave one or don't-it's completely up to you. For those who have left comments, thank you! If you haven't, i hope you are enjoying the story anyway :)-

Jean smiled as Pan placed another pebble in the center of his open, outstretched hand; the little rock sat in the middle of his palm, still as can be until Pan placed his other hand just adjacent to it, and within seconds, it began shining like a glow light in a disco party. Jean giggled, her face lighting up as the magic transformed the pebble into dust, and when Pan blew the dust into the air, it transformed again into snow.

Jean held her hands up, touching it to make sure it was just as Pan had made it appear to be. It was cold to the touch and it melted the moment it landed either on the slab of rock underneathe her, or turned into water as it rolled off her bare shoulders. Jean smiled like a child at a magic show, which is just what this was.

Pan had come back a little later than he had promised and he had come to the treehouse in the afternoon to a very irate Jean. To smooth things over, he promised to show her magic-maybe even teach her a little as well. Jean, who even as a younger lass adored magic tricks, couldn't stay mad and so she forgave him.

He had to do well by his promise so he had taken her to the shores of Neverland; they sat on a large slab of rock, shoes to the side as their feet were dipped into the cool water.

"Do it again." Jean encouraged, smiling widely.

"Again?" Pan asked, chuckling. "I've already done it five times."

"Please?" Jean pleaded, puckering her lips into a pouty face. "Come on. One more time."

"Actually," Pan mused, "how about you give it a go?"

Jean stared at him, figuring out whether or not he was just joking with her. She had no magical capability-at least, none that she was aware of.

"This is Neverland," Pan reminded. "If you want anything, all you have to do is think about it."

"I don't have a single magical gene in my body." Jean pointed out. "I can't do magic."

"That's where you're wrong," Pan returned smartly.

Still oblivious, Jean watched Pan stand up and then he sat squarely next to her. He looked around at the ground; he picked up a smaller sized pebble. Then he took Jean's hand into his own, opening her palm. Jean looked at him incredulously.

"Think of something you want." Pan told her. "Cake, flowers...diamonds. Anything. If you believe you're actually holding it, then it will appear. But you have to really, *really* believe that you are holding it. "

Jean gave him a look, then looked at the pebble. And she stared at it. And stared at it. And stared at it, but nothing happened.

Feeling slightly discouraged, Jean sighed, glancing at Pan as if he was just yanking her leg, but Pan smiled at her.

"You can do it." Pan encouraged.

Jean stared hard at the pebble in her hand. Pan chuckled and this suddenly irritated her.

"What the hell is so funny?" Jean snapped. "I'm staring at it! I'm trying my best; i told you I can't do magic."

Pan raised his eyebrows at her tone. Her sass levels were off the charts. Jean rolled her eyes, tossing the pebble into the ocean, dispassionate.

"You're thinking too hard about it." Pan uttered patiently. "You can't just simply think about it and it will appear."

"It was *You* who just said to think about it!" Jean remarked hotly. "Obviously, I'm doing something wrong because nothing has happened."

"You're not doing anything wrong. " Pan smiled at her again.

"There you go again, smiling-What the hell is so funny?" Jean questioned.

"You have to feel it."

"Feel *what*?" Jean snapped.

Pan was not entirely caught off guard by her impatience and quick temper. It's actually what he sometimes liked most about her. That fire...but damn...Those sass levels, though.

Pan moved around Jean so he was behind her. Once more, he found another pebble and he (forcefully) placed it in Jean's open palm. Jean was about to resign from the lesson altogether, but Pan had another idea. He wrapped his arms around her stomach, his hands resting along her hips; Jean was ready to voice her protest, tired of trying to turn a stupid rock into snow.

"Think of something happy." Pan told her.

"What...why?"

"Just do as I say." Pan said coolly.

"But why?" Jean interrogated.

Pan sighed, "Babe, just humor me."

Jean scoffed, but she closed her eyes (reluctantly) and thought of something. The memories were many, but the only thing she could think of at this moment was Pan's arms around her waist, and his fingers weaving the hem of her dress between them, moving it up her stomach so his fingertips grazed her flesh, tickling lightly. Jean could feel his lips just behind her ear , and hear his voice instructing her in the lowest of tones, guiding her.

"Think lovely thoughts," Pan whispered into her ear.

"I can't think when you are this close to me." Jean muttered.

She practically could hear him smirk when he said, "Then use that."

Jean bit her lip when she felt him kiss her neck, sending shivers down her spine. He purposely moaned quietly in her ear, which made her stomach turn pleasurably.

Now not only sexually frustrated and agitated with the pebble in her hand, Jean irritably asked, "How does that help again with turning this damn rock in something more than just dirt?"

"Magic is emotion," Pan told her softly, sounding more like a professor than a 16 year old teenager. "Magic isn't just something you can think up and it just happen. You have to feel it as well."

"Like Dark Magic." Jean mumbled.

"Well, *any* magic, but I love how your mind goes there first." Pan returned, grinning broadly at her.

Jean was starting to get the point. She turned her head slightly, seeing Pan's anticipating expression; he was just as eager to see just what she was capable of doing as she was.

"Tell me what to do." Jean whispered.

"Close your eyes." Pan returned in the same soft tone.

She closed her eyes.

"Imagine what you want to appear in your hand, but do so with more than just your mind." Pan instructed in the same soft tone.

Jean thought of a blood diamond. It would be black as ebony with a deep, darker shade of crimson. Rough around the edges like a diamond, but smooth along the sides like rose quartz. While the thought moved to the back of her mind as though it sat on a back burner, Jean felt her senses take on a new level between hypervigilance and a daydream.

"Tell me what you are imagining," Pan breathed along the nape of her neck. "Tell me what you are feeling."

Jean spoke distractedly, but her voice was clear and concise.

"Your hands on my stomach...your lips on my neck..." Jean uttered as though in a strange trance.

Pan smirked against her skin, watching her fingers loosen around the pebble. He placed his mouth on her neck, just along the side of her jaw and with his tongue, he kissed her there. Jean sighed deeply.

"Keep going." Pan encouraged quietly. "What memory are you thinking of?"

"The first time we..." Jean began, but she lost herself momentarily to the soft pecks on her neck, which left a burning trail of wetness from his tongue and the sting of desire.

"The first time we did *what*?" Pan asked, knowing full well what she meant but he would be lying if he denied wanting to hear her experience from memory-considering the first time they made love was nearly literally a century ago (well, if one was able to track that kind of time in Neverland).

Jean smiled, her head tilting back so it rested on Pan's shoulder.

"The first time we made love." Jean uttered, just barely louder than a whisper.

"Tell me what you remember," Pan said softly, but there was a rigidity to his voice left unchecked as he recollected his own pleasurable memory of that day.

Calmly, he instructed, "Describe it to me."

Jean smiled broadly, the brightest of them he'd ever seen as it reached her eyes and caused her cheeks to turn a little pink. But lost in the process of turning a simple object into a hard-to-obtain item required something of a greater deal of concentration.

Pan watched her fingers uncurl from the palm and outstretch, the pebble now in full display. He gazed at it, a bit impressed as it had begun to hover above and it circled a bit before lying back down on her palm. It began to glow a dull shade of red.

Jean began to recall that memory.

**[Flashback]**

Jean and Pan were hunting mermaids. It was the first hunt she had ever participated in, albeit had ever experienced. He could have chosen a simple squirrel...or a fish. And while fish had originally been her idea, he had gone a whole different direction with it and said they would be hunting a different *kind* of fish: Mer-fish...or rather (more properly known) mermaids. One of the most dangerous species on the island.

Fantastic, Jean thought.

"I can't hunt," Jean said for the umpteenth time. "I don't even know how to really swim-except the occasional doggy paddle."

They were moving up to a cliff that towered over the Mermaid Lagoon. Jean held a dagger; Pan carried a crossbow. While Jean was more than insistent upon turning back, Pan was more persistent about going forward and doing the job. He'd talked her into more outlandish things before (like leaving London to live on an island that had only been heard of in story books), but this in comparison was more dangerous and reckless.

"Mermaids aren't as frightening as they appear." Pan told Jean.

"Oh, i know that." Jean said. Then darkly, she reminded him: "It's not what they do when you're on land that bothers me. It's the whole 'drawing me to the shore then drowning me' that actually has me on edge."

Pan smirked at her sarcasm.

"You're not as scared as you think you are." Pan said pointedly. "It's because you've never done it before."

"Well, come to think of it-I might have considered jumping into a lagoon full of flesh-eating, limb-ripping fish a while back, but you know, only fucking crazy people do that." Jean stated cynically. She gave him a look, adding, "Do i look crazy to you?"

Pan pointed at her face, saying, "Well, your eyes are pretty big and your teeth are..."

"I'm not jumping in that water." Jean protested skeptically.

Pan rolled his eyes.

"There's nothing to fear but fear itself."

"Well, my fear is down there." Jean returned, pointing at the clear waters below. "That fear is keeping me up here. And i like my skin and my face and my limbs, so I'll continue to fear the fear because fear is keeping me...up here." She crossed her arms.

Pan gave her a look.

"What?" Jean questioned. "I'm not overreacting. This is a legitimate response to an outrageous..."

"What if i made it more interesting for you."

"Don't give me that; You made a deal with me already. You said if i just came up here and I just had a look, and i still didn't want to do it, i didnt have to." Jean reminded coolly. "Well, i can tell you that we *are* up here, i *did* look down and i *dont* want to do it. "

Pan smirked at her and that crooked smile tugged at Jean's female notions. She frowned as he walked towards her, and that look of his made her know too well what he was about to try.

"And what if i were to sweeten the deal?" Pan asked.

"There is nothing you can say that will get me down there." Jean stated.

"Then there is no harm in listening to what i have to offer."

Jean narrowed her eyes: "You just love to talk with that silver tongue, don't you? Fine. Tell me what you have to offer."

Pan grinned at her and said smoothly.

"You don't have to hunt a mermaid if you don't want to," Pan told her. "But you do have to hunt something equally dangerous: An albino crocodile, for example."

"Still waiting for that sweet part. " Jean replied smoothly.

"If you find a mermaid, *and* kill one," Pan added that last part recently which made Jean's eyebrows raise curiously, "We can play whatever game you want to play...only, of course, *after* i see the dead body."

Jean gave him a calculating look, but she had something in mind. She glanced down at the cliff, eying the circling silver fins breaking the surface, those fins connected to beautiful female bodies, but the threat was a little too much. Then again, the price of winning was more than she could dare to pass up.

Jean knew Pan at this point. Pan never sacrificed a sure thing for something as petty as a deal. He wagered that she would back down from the offer, despite the luxury of choosing to make him play whatever game she desired.

That was a sweet deal all right.

Jean smirked at him.

"I'll take your deal." Jean said. "But not on your terms."

"What?" Pan responded, surprised.

Jean grinned darkly at him and then, before Pan could tell her that he was only joking with the idea of actually hunting a live kicking angry mermaid, Jean had started positioning her stance for the jump off a 30 foot cliff.

"Jean, what are you doing?"

"Getting me a mermaid."

"Well, i was only..."

"Gonna fillet that fishy bitch!" said Jean, getting hyped.

She flipped the dagger in her hand so she could attack easily, starting to undress so she was only in her panties (she never wore a bra, because why). Pan raised his eyebrows, unable to stop himself from eying that curvy figure of hers, and he stepped towards her.

"Jean...babe, i was only...Jean!"

Jean jumped.

She skydived at first then swan dived into the water, whooping as she did. Pan cringed when she hit the surface but there was hardly a splash.

"Damn it!" Pan hissed.

He quickly ran down the cliff when he saw thrashing below and then there was no movement in the water afterwards. Breathlessly, he started taking off his own clothes to jump in the water after her, but just as he was ready to take a dive, a mermaid swam to the surface.

Blood spewed and spread through the water like rippling veins and then there was a grunt. Jean pushed the fish off of her, grunting with the force of dead weight, then pulled herself out of the water. She was covered in teeth marks, mainly on her wrist, neck and even her legs, but there on the shore lied a dead mermaid, the bitch's throat slit and even gutted as though Jean had taken the knife to it and twisted it.

Pan stared at the gore before him and then at Jean, who was panting, covered in blood, but she smirked at him.

She flipped the dagger, holding its blade, and with a throw, the dagger ended up in the mermaid's eye. Jean brushed a hand through her hair, smiling at Pan, who was still staring at her in shock.

Jean gave him a once-over look. Pan seemed to realize he was naked and his natural boldness came back to him when he saw Jean's eyebrows raised with equal surprise, but clearly denoted attraction-such as it was since he and Jean had become masters of sexual tension and frustration over the past several years.

"Like what you see, babe?"

Jean smirked at him, walking towards him.

"Maybe i do." Jean returned.

He was on a rock, and she, on the ground, so he stood a great deal taller than her (more than normal anyway since she was short already). Jean bit her lower lip as she walked towards him.

"I caught the bitch," Jean noted. "She put up one heck of a fight, but I *got* her."

Pan watched her step on the rock with him, a mischievous smile planted on her face that stretched from one ear to the other. Did it seem odd that seeing her covered in dirt and blood make Pan feel tongue tied or make his stomach roll in pleasurably uncomfortable flips? Combine that with the fact she was naked, aside from her panties...which, thanks to the lagoon, were wet...and so was the rest of her.

Jean stepped towards him, closing the distance between them. Her eyes took all of him in. His broad shoulders and chest, lean and toned abdomen-the definition of his arms, even his legs. She was growing strong in her sexual desire, and weak in the knees. And he was eying her in the same way.

When she was only inches from him (maybe even less than that), something overtook Pan, a feeling he had not felt since he had been a lad in his own time. That internal drive to take what belonged to him, and that was Jean.

He placed his hands on the back of her head, gripping her hair and pulled her towards him in one forcible motion that in that same movement, their lips crashed together in one heated kiss. In that same moment, Jean's hands snatched his own hair, and her fingers clenched and pulled as she kissed him back just as hard, just as rough.

They could barely breathe and when breathing became necessary, they pulled apart. Panting, Pan and Jean looked at each other. At first, there was shock, but then immediately replacing this was a new heightened sense of attraction and desire.

"I didnt think you really would jump," Pan told her breathlessly. "But that was the one of the hottest things I have ever seen you do."

He glanced at the dead mermaid whose eyes were still open (well, *eye* since the other one had a dagger in it), and mouth, slacked and open.

"And counting," Jean added, clicking her tongue.

Pan's eyes brightened with a darker pool of adoration for his Lost Girl and felt his blood boil with a warmer feeling.

Jean suddenly pushed him down and he fell on his back, then she straddled him; Jean leaned forward so their bodies touched, her naked breasts pushing against his chest; she was warmer than he expected her to be; her flesh was hot, flushed in wanton and heat. A different kind of heat radiated between her legs, making his blood rise and hardening his erection; Pan bit his lip for need of some self restraint.

He could feel himself coming undone.

His concentration was broken when Jean shoved her mouth on his; he wrapped his arms around her back, feeling her, touching her; Jean's hands snatched his wrists and pinned them down above his head.

"Now i have a deal for you, Peter Pan." Jean said desirously. "We both know what we want. We can either do this with me on my back, or...more ideally, with you on *yours*."

Pan smirked at her, and he gave her no real answer as he pushed her off; she grunted as she hit the ground, but the moment she did, Pan had Jean on her back and he was between her legs.

"I'm the only who can make deals around here, Jean." Pan told her, and he grinned when he saw her eyes glaze over with lust and submission. "Now, we're going to *play* your game...but you're playing by my rules."

Jean grinned darkly, matching his.

Pan said lowly, "Rule 1: i want you to scream."

In the moment he thrusted into her, loud moans erupted from her mouth and it seemed as though the entire island of Neverland could hear her.

Luckily (for Neverland) they were the only two people on the island.

**[End of flashback]**

Jean had finished describing their first time together, and Pan, who had listened to her, was more than aroused. However, he glanced at her hand and saw a blood red diamond sitting in her palm, glowing with the magic instilled inside.

"Jean."

"Mmm?"

"Open your eyes." Pan told her.

Jean opened her eyes and looked at the diamond in her hand, surprised.

"I told you." Pan mused. "'Magic is emotion.'"

Jean smiled at him.

"Well, that's good and all...but..." Jean placed the diamond aside and leaned back so her lips brushed his. "How about we make another memory?"

She tackled him and they made love against the slab of rock. When they had finished their love making, Jean and Pan stood to their feet. They dressed and as Jean was about to leave, Pan stopped her.

"What?" Jean asked.

Pan stooped, picking up the blood diamond. With a drop of his hand, he held a silver necklace. He placed the two together and then with a wave of his other hand, the two fused together and the diamond became a part of it. He held it out to Jean.

"Just a reminder of your ability." Pan offered.

Jean held up her hair as he placed it around her neck.

"You still have a lot of potential," Pan told her. "And yet after all these years, you still don't realize just how powerful you really are."

"And *you* do?" She remarked.

Pan said seriously, "i do."

Jean beamed, saying, "Maybe one of these days, I will too."

Pan placed his arm around her waist and she did the same with his and they strolled back to camp.


	8. Darker

()()()()()()

It was an unusually quiet day in Neverland; the boys were still asleep in the treehouse, including Pan.

In the treehouse, Jean slowly pulled herself out of Pan's arms, smiling when he made the softest sound of protest, but he didn't awake. He turned on his other side, giving her a nice morning view of last night's events.

She imagined the same scratches and light bruises on his back matched the those on the back of her thighs from where he'd gripped her so hard as he came inside her, the elation almost as tortuously pleasurable as the foreplay had been.

Jean reminisced last night with a smirk on her face as shearly got out of bed. She stood, pulling her dress over her head. Giving it a curious look, she wondered if she could change the outfit...with magic. A few nights ago, she had changed a simple pebble to a rare, uncommonly found blood diamond, which she now wore around her neck on its silver chain. She touched it with remembrance to the fact, and then closed her eyes.

She imagined a dark green dress, a leather-like appeal but with some jungle fever.

She imagined it in her mind, the feeling of it, the sight and material, and then (as Pan had instructed her) she began to use any kind of memory to use her emotions for the process of creating magic.

Jean began to reimagine last night's rambunctious tryst.

Their bodies rubbing against each other; the taste of his sweat on her tongue as she kissed every inch of him; the way Pan moaned her name when he came inside of her, and the possession in Pan's voice when he said she would only ever be his and his alone.

Jean glanced down and smiled happily, seeing that her brown loin cloth dress began to glow slightly and change into a completely different outfit.

The top of her shoulders were bare as the sleeves hung lower, appearing intentionally tattered in a rebellious, malevolent design. The lower half fell just above her knees. She appeared to have dangerous mermaid look. Jean grinned even widely.

She'd done it for a second time.

Leaving the treehouse in her new outfit and bursting with confidence she had never felt before, Jean climbed down the ladder, closing the hatch as quietly as possible. The jungle was nearly silent, for the exception of tweeting little birds, the occasional snorting of wild pigs; she heard the trees and bushes around her move as animals slithered, crawled, or shuffled through them.

Jean then took off running.

Through the trees, she bounded over rocks, brambled bushes, and a spiny weeds. Her feet moved quickly, easily coordinated; she was by no means lost; she knew the jungle like the back of her hand, and as she came to the end of the cliff, Jean embraced her better instincts, closed eyes shut, and then jumped off the cliff.

30 feet down, she hit the water, splitting through the ripples of the surface like a knife through a soft, stick of warm butter.

She broke the thin, clear sheet of water when she took in a large breath, smiling with joy for no real reason except to be alive. As she made her way to the shore, Jean saw someone watching her.

"Nice to see someone enjoying themselves," Tinkerbell noted.

Jean would have smiled, seeing her favorite Fairy. However, Jean noticed a rather bitter smile on the blonde's face and an unhappy fairy was hardly good news.

Jean stood, pulling her hair back in a wet pony tail as she sat on a rather large boulder. She gestured to the rock for Tinkerbell to join her.

"You look upset," Jean noted.

"Well, if it pleases the queen to know, I *am* upset." Tinkerbell stated sarcastically.

Grudgingly, the fairy sat beside her.

"What's happened?" asked Jean.

Tinkerbell looked at her as if wondering if Jean was being genuinely concerned or mockingly pleasant. Sometimes, Jean could have that affect on people where she appeared to be quite endearing but really, she couldn't give a cent why someone was upset.

However, Jean seemed to sincerely care about Tinkerbell's plight. After all, on the island, Pan trusted Tinkerbell. She never interferred with anyone on the island, and that was good as any reason to trust her.

And, of course, Tinkerbell had been forth coming with information about Jock's scheme about wanting to get Jean to be his; after its failure, Tinkerbell was most apologetic, having only wished for one of the Lost Boys to find his happy ending if none of the others could.

Tinkerbell looked at Jean with the same sadness. Something had happened to the fairy.

"What's wrong?" Jean asked again. "Did one of the boys hurt you?"

"No. Nothing like that," Tinkerbell uttered, shaking her head. She looked down at her hands, as did Jean, who noticed they were shaking.

Jean placed a hand over hers.

"Tell me what has upset you. Maybe i can help?" Jean offered.

"What could *you* do for me?" Tinkerbell inquired chastily.

"I can't really do anything," Jean returned in a matter-of-fact tone. "But maybe Peter could help."

"He wouldn't help me."

"Maybe not initially. But i could convince him otherwise."

"That, you could," Tinkerbell noted, smiling at Jean.

Anyone on the island knew that Jean could persuade Pan to do anything if she did it in the right way at the right time and in the right place. She could insinuate anyone on the island had upset her and Pan, who only ever wanted to make his queen happy, would make that person pay the ultimate price.

Sometimes, she was unable to convince him of anything.

Sometimes, the most dangerous thing about Jean is she had the power to influence his decisions and sometimes, she simply chose not to...or if she could, Jean chose not to because while Jean influenced his feelings for her, she never manipulated them.

And aside from gender and a few other things, that was what made Jean different from the King of Neverland.

Despite Jean's encouragement, Tinkerbell only shook her head at the idea.

"Pan couldn't help me even if he wanted to," said Tinkerbell.

"Well, then it must be a Fairy thing." Jean mused. "He can do anything on the island."

"Except restore to me what i have lost," whispered Tinkerbell.

Jean's voice softened when she asked her, "And what have you lost, my friend?"

Tinkerbell's voice shattered as she managed to squeak, "My wings."

Jean frowned as the Fairy broke down in front of her. Tinkerbell's face became wet and red, and those tears of hers just rolled down her face.

Sensing the devastation of this news, Jean held out her arms, and Tinkerbell moved closer, allowing Jean to hold her as Tinkerbell cried on her shoulder. Jean stroked her back, and whispered little soft things like "sshhhh, it's okay".

Tinkerbell lost her wings. She was no longer a Fairy. That was even upsetting for Jean, so she couldn't possibly imagine what Tinkerbell was feeling.

"Well, maybe you can get them back," Jean offered as Tinkerbell pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

"I can't. Only the Blue Fairy can give them my back to me." Tinkerbell sobbed.

And the tears continued to spill. Jean once more pulled Tinkerbell to her so the girl could have another good cry. This time, Jean said nothing and maybe that's what Tink needed the most. Time passed and Jean and Tinkerbell were sitting on the sand; Jean had her legs stretched out in front of her as Tinkerbell lied down on her side with her head on Jean's lap. Jean was softly rubbing Tinkerbell's shoulder, comforting her.

"I don't know what i will do." Tinkerbell said.

"Well, you can make a home here." Jean offered.

"I only come here to visit. Like a summer home." Tinkerbell muttered.

Jean shrugged, saying, "It's your choice. I'm not forcing you to be here."

"No. Technically, Pan is."

Jean gave a nod to that. Tinkerbell was right about that for sure. After some silent time had passed, Tinkerbell turned on her back to look up at Jean.

"Whatever happened to that boy who tried to be Pan?" asked Tinkerbell. "What became of him?"

Jean smiled a little too happily as she said, "We tied him to a rock and gave him to the mermaids."

Tinkerbell's eyes widened with horror and she sat up quickly. Jean simply remained sitting, looking up at her with little surprise.

"You killed him?" Tinkerbell inquired disgustedly.

Jean shrugged saying, "Technically, the mermaids did. And if you really want to get technical, the *water* did when it filled his lungs and he drowned." She gave Tinkerbell a curious glance, saying, "I don't see why you're so disgusted by this. He lied to you, and tricked you for your magic so he could deceive Pan and kidnap me."

"i don't think he needed to *die*."

"Of course he did," Jean replied. "The cost of betraying Peter is death." She stood to her feet, holding her hands out pointedly to Tinkerbell, saying, "The fact he tried to take me from Peter required a more painful death."

"But Jean..."

"But Tinkerbell..." Jean mocked, smirking at her. "Trust me, Tink. It was for the best. The other boys have learned from his error and it's been peaceful ever since then. No foul ups. No treacherous plans. Just you, me, Peter, and our wonderful Boys."

Tinkerbell frowned, stepping towards her.

"You killed a boy, Jean. Do you realize how dark your heart has become?"

Jean laughed loudly, causing Tinkerbell to stare at her.

"You think that Jock was the only person I have ever killed, Tink?" asked Jean softly. "He's not the first."

"Then..."

Jean smiled at her.

"You grant Happy Endings, don't you, Tinkerbell?" asked Jean, knowingly. "You're an expert on them, know alot about them. Well. Here's what _I_ personally know about happy endings. It isn't one until the person thinks it is. I could have had one in the real world, if i had settled for it."

Tinkerbell frowned, saying, "What are you talking about?"

Jean leaned against the boulder.

"I had a foster family who gave me everything i could have wanted. They loved me," said Jean gently. "But i didn't love them. I wasn't happy there; they gave me curfews, told me what i could or couldn't do, and i would do everything i could in order to leave, but they were so damn forgiving, and they would not give me up!"

Tinkerbell crossed her arms, saying, "So you left your own happy ending for this place?"

"Hardly." Jean returned honestly. "I left with Peter because he offered me everything I wanted. I felt something when i was around him. The 'happy ending' with my foster family would have never made me happy as happy as Peter makes me. "

Jean laughed, "Hell, i felt nothing being with those fake people. Just to feel something, anything really, i lied to them, stole from them, even cheated them out of everything they'd ever owned and they still didn't give me up," Jean smirked at her. "Then it occurred to me one night. I would only ever be free to leave if they were gone. So i killed them."

Tinkerbell stared at her in horror.

"Why the hell would you do that?" Tinkerbell questioned. "And why the hell are you even telling me this? What makes you think I won't say something to someone about this?"

Jean shrugged saying, "I'm the Queen of Neverland, Tink. Who would you tell? But you could tell anyone your heart desires. It's not my darkest secret...so i don't care who knows about this. But, more importantly, i do have a point in telling you all of this if you'd just let me get to it."

Tinkerbell frowned. Jean continued.

"Because of my dead 'parents', i was sent back to the orphanage, awaiting the verdict of a pending investigation. I knew eventually I might be found out, so i ran away; i promised one of the children i would come back but i never did...that might have been the only thing I have ever regretted in my life. I thought I might have made a mistake in killing them, but on that same night, I ran into Peter and he asked me to come with him, to leave that place and to spend the rest of my life with him in Neverland."

Jean shrugged, saying, "Sounded like a dream come true, so I came."

"You came here to escape from prison," Tinkerbell mused unhappily. "Doesn't really sound like a happy ending."

Jean laughed again.

"Of course it is," said Jean. "I told you a happy ending isn't one unless the person believes it to be. I was able to avoid going back to a stupid orphanage ran by an unloveable hag, and come to Neverland, a place i never thought i'd be able to stay, being a girl and all." Jean placed a hand on Tinkerbell's face. "I get to live with a boy that loves every part of me and i love every part of him...there are people who feel the way i do, and i live by my own rules; after all, Im the Queen. That, Tinkerbell, IS my happy ending."

Tinkerbell continued to stare at Jean.

"Why are you telling me any of this?" Tinkerbell whispered.

"Because, Tink, I consider you to be one of my closest friends and I hate seeing you so depressed." Jean mused. "That, and I just wanted you to know that even though you're not a fairy anymore, you can still find happiness in Neverland. It may not be the happy ending you expected, but you can make this work. You just have to believe you can, just as I did."

Tinkerbell shook her head, saying, "You're insane."

Jean shrugged, saying, "Maybe."

Tinkerbell shook her head again as if trying to absorb all of this information, trying to figure it all out.

"I understand you're upset," Jean said softly. "But you shouldn't let this Blue Fairy get to you. I mean, I still believe in you."

Tinkerbell looked at Jean, momentarily lost.

"How can you kill Jock, and still claim to feel anything for the Lost Boys?" asked Tinkerbell. "How can you hope to accomplish anything from being so hateful?"

"That's the thing," said Jean smoothly. "I'm not a hateful person. I love Peter Pan. And i love you, Tink...well, as a friend of course. And i love this island." Sincerely, she returned, "And i do love the Lost Boys."

"But Jock..." Tinkerbell insisted.

"Jock betrayed Peter, and myself." Jean said. "He tried to hurt me. I have no pity or remorse for what happened to that little sod, and neither should you."

"He's only a boy." Tinkerbell insisted, still.

"And if he had gotten away with his plan, I would have left with him and then my happy ending would have been lost," Jean reasoned. "Don't you see, Tink? Not everyone can have a happy ending because some people's happy endings requires another person to lose theirs."

Tinkerbell stared at Jean incredulously, but perhaps the realization of that had overwhelmed her. Jean smiled sadly, touching Tinkerbell's shoulder with as much consideration and concern as possible. And tinkerbell could feel the sincerity in it.

"But now you don't have to worry about that anymore, Tink." Jean told her softly. "You're not in charge of bringing happy endings to everyone. Now you can concentrate on your own ending; whether or not it will be happy is your choice to make."

Jean lowered her hand saying, "That's why I'm telling you all of this. I don't want you to think losing your wings is the end of the world, because it's not. Like me, You can still find a happy ending and it will be you who decides just what that is just as I have chosen mine."

Tinkerbell found this logic a bit obscure but it made sense.

"You know, you and Pan are a lot alike," Tinkerbell whispered.

"And why do you say that?" asked Jean.

Tinkerbell frowned saying, "You think a happy ending requires people to lose their lives, and that's not right. You areally not the same sweet girl you started out when you came here. "

The Fairy stepped back from her.

"I never claimed to be innocent. " Jean reminded.

"I appreciate you trying to make me feel better. But..." Tinkerbell said quietly. "This land has made you dark, Jean. Darker, even. You've spent too much time on it...and with him." She gave Jean one last look and then ran into the forest, away from Jean, who looked after her.

Jean considered her words.

"Huh. Fairies." Jean muttered, rolling her eyes.

She didn't give another thought about tinkerbells words as she took another swim in Mermaid Lagoon, enjoying the Sun's rays.


	9. Mommy, May I

Jean was on her way back from Mermaid Lagoon. She had begun braiding her own hair on the side, the tail end of it lying just above her right breast when she heard a snap of twigs; she suddenly stopped, and her hand hovered above her laced belt where her dagger was sheathed until a hand caught hers from behind, then another folded over her mouth.

She felt her back push against someone's chest. At first, panic ensued every part of her body until Jean heard the familiar amused chuckle exude from her aforementioned captor's lips. She rolled her eyes when Pan pulled her into him, turning her head so he could kiss her throat.

"Hmmeroooong." Jean spoke, but the words were all garbled from her mouth being muffled.

"Beg your pardon?" Pan questioned.

"Hmm...er...ooo...oiiin..." Jean said more slowly, her eyes narrowing at him as she knew he was now just teasing her.

"'What am I doing?'" Pan vocalized her own question.

Jean nodded.

"I'm imagining what you would look like with a rope around your wrists and with me inside your mouth," Pan returned, smirking when Jean gazed at him with surprise.

He let her go; Jean stepped back, hands lowered to her sides as she watched him with a familiar lustful glint in her eye. Pan glanced at his arms, recollecting that her body had been drenched.

"Did you go swimming?" Pan asked, looking at her.

"Yes." Jean answered. She stepped towards him and Pan looked her up and down.

"I like the new look." He noted.

"Made it myself."

"How did you do that, exactly?" Pan mused, leaning his back against a tree.

"Magic." Jean returned. "I'm moving up from pebbles to clothes." She smiled apologetically, "I hope you don't mind."

Pan raised an eyebrow when she closed the distance between them, her hands lightly placed on his chest. She was really buttering him up, and Pan was enjoying every moment of it.

"I don't mind at all," Pan assured, admiring her outfit...and the body that was wearing it. "However, for the fun of it, let's pretend i did."

Jean cocked her head to the side.

"Alright," she accepted smoothly. "I'll play your little game."

"You wouldn't have had a choice," Pan told her pointedly.

Jean placed her hands on his belt nonchalantly, but Pan knew Jean very well. She did it to make his imagination wild and it worked. She swam in his blood; Jean could accidentally brush against him and he would be ready to make her sit and spin.

Having every single possible scenario flash through his mind in a matter of a seconds, Pan's lust for Jean now matched hers. Jean grinned at him, that dark smile lining her pink lips.

She was intoxicating. While Jean had always had this affect on Pan, her being in that new dress, making her look more appealing, more alluring, more *dangerous* than ever made his blood boil. Pan never thought it was possible. And here she was, doing nothing but smiling at him...with her hands on his belt, and her body moving towards him to close what little distance he had originally granted between them.

"What are you doing to me..." Pan uttered lowly.

Jean smiled innocently: "What you do to me every day."

Pan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, not quite certain what she meant by that. Then again, may be he did know what she meant. Pan watched Jean meet his gaze the entire time as she undid his belt, and lowered one of her hands inside his pants. There, she made contact with the beginning of a hard erection, and when her fingers slid around him, Pan became tense.

"Are we still playing your game?" Jean asked him softly.

With some impressive self-discipline, Pan returned calmly, "Only if you get on your knees."

Jean was caught off guard at times by the words that would come out of his mouth, but neither of them were strangers to talking dirty. She still had to applaud him for his skill from time to time. Just hearing those words spoken in his voice (not to mention that accent) could make her undone.

"And what if I don't?" Jean challenged.

"Then you and I are in for a long morning, pet." Pan responded in the same tone.

Even as she lowered herself to the ground onto her knees, they did not break eye contact. Pan watched her take off his belt the rest of the way, and slowly pull his pants down. Jean looked up at him as though asking permission.

"Go on." Pan encouraged.

Jean smiled when his hands brushed through her wet hair. He watched her take him into her mouth, those lip closing around his cock, and feeling her tongue move around him.

He had wanted Jean when he had woken up, having had dreams of her; he couldn't remember much of the dream except she was moaning his name, and there were parts of Jean that had remained untouched and that just wasn't permitted. He'd awoken to seeing his queen absent, and had been on the search for her...not just for fucking reasons, but it had been in the top 5.

Finding her in the trees with her hair all wet and a more complimenting dress, Pan had immediately wanted her right there in the clearing.

Around them were really nothing except a few trees and some odd placed rocks. For the most part, they were within sight of the ocean...any sailor passing through if given the right distance could see them...maybe that's what made it so much more invigorating.

Jean had all of him in her throat at once. When Pan moved his hands to touch her, Jean snatched his wrists and pinned them on the tree on either side of his waist. Impressed, Pan had a whole new level of desire for her. Jean worked him over enough that Pan was just a few seconds away from release; she suddenly stopped and in his dumbfounded surprise, she stood and by the collar of his shirt brought him down to her level.

He landed on his back; Pan watched her stand over him, watched her pull her panties down to her ankles and kick them aside. She straddled him with as much fury as an angry Amazon warrior, and placed him inside of her. Pan exhaled sharply, feeling that immediate, intense lustful feeling return.

When Jean began riding him, matching her predatory desire to his, Pan moaned, "Good girl."

Jean stopped him from holding her hips as she grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head while she leaned forward, gaining leverage. Pan raised his eyebrows in awe.

Goddam, Jean was hot as fuck.

Of course, he had thought this a *long* time ago, but the realization had hit him all over again. Pan could feel her pussy tighten around him as she was coming close to her orgasm, and as she was moaning (loudly), Pan, who was now restrained by his lovely counterpart, was at her mercy for release. Her body writhed against him, those lovely thighs of hers contracting as her muscles were beginning to lose control...As Jean seemed to lose control.

Holding back his own moans, Pan managed, "Do you want me to take over?"

Jean let go of his wrists as though in response; Pan pulled himself up and pushed Jean on her back; she eagerly did so. He forcefully and hurriedly spread her thighs and pushed himself inside her so deep and quickly that they both moaned at the same time.

Pan glanced at Jean's hands to see her fingernails burrowing into the soil beneathe them as her climax was coming closer; he noted that pained desire in her eyes as she danced on the precipice of a teeter-totter orgasm.

He closed the distance between their bodies so his thrusts were quick, but deep; Jean wrapped her legs around his waist, her ankles hooked around his back. Pan shoved his mouth onto hers; their kissing became hard and furious.

"Can you see what you do to me," Pan growled. "See what you can make me become!"

Jean bit his lower lip in response and when he met her eyes, they were filled with just as much animalistic possession as his. Pan moved his hand from her thigh to her neck, his thumb lined along her throat. Jean grinned wickedly, her hands lifted to his face and shoved his mouth on hers as she kissed him harder than ever. This was the most aggressive they may have ever been since...well, ever.

Pan felt her bite his lip again and her hands were clenching the collar of his shirt, keeping him against her. Pan pounded into Jean, not holding back. This seemed to be what Jean wanted for she screamed in pleasure, her head craning back as her back arched and her hips rolled.

Seeing her like this because of him, Pan felt more powerful than ever before. He kept her still as he held her by her throat and the other hand on her chest, keeping her down and still, restrained. She tried to move, trying to move with him, but Pan prohibited it.

"Ride it out, Pet." Pan ordered.

He sent one last thrust inside of her and released himself along the contracting muscular walls, her pussy slick and wet with the heat and desire of their own making. Jean became a spasm galore as her muscles contracted, her back arching but held down by Pan; she writhed underneathe him, her fingernails slicing into arms as she grabbed ahold of anything near her. Those moans of hers...satisifed, hungry moans, saying his name over and over, and over, got him going again. Pan captured her mouth once more, his tongue invading with her permission but she welcomed such a raid.

When he tried gaining the upper hand again, Jean switched their positions as she placed her hand on his neck.

"Down, boy." Jean panted, still trying to get her life back together as she was still riding out her pleasurable muscle spasms.

Pan began to retort but she muffled him with her other hand.

"We're not playing your game anymore." Jean growled. "We're playing mine. Wanna know what it's called?"

Pan gave her a look.

"I said," Jean uttered dangerously, "Do you want to *know* what it's called." She grinded her hips against him agonizingly slow, also placing him inside of her so he felt a small shock of pleasure spike through his body.

Enthralled, Pan nodded his head.

Jean smirked down at him.

"Good." She said.

She removed her hands from him and pulled off her dress so he was given an impressive perspective of her body...so perky, so firm...so...his.

Pan couldnt keep his jaw closed when she wiggled on top of him as she fumbled with the dress, trying to get it over her head. When she did, Pan was sure he might come right then and there...he hadn't realized how sensitive he was until now.

"Just what exactly is this new 'game' called?" Pan questioned breathlessly.

Jean leaned forward, a darker smile on her face.

"It's called 'Mommy, May I'..." Jean purred. "And Mommy has some rules of her own."

Pan grinned up at her as she lowered her body onto his. Pan sighed pleasurably when she rode him with just the right tempo and angle that it was almost a constant ecstacy, but meant for long-term. As she did, Jean kissed him, and he returned it. When she kissed him harder, he returned it as well.

Jean then lowered herself onto her side.l, and Pan was on his side as well. Pan smiled when he could take part in this interesting new take on love-making. He all the while moved in and out of her while Jean would respond to him in the same rhythm, as if their bodies were taking part in some type of perverted dance. It was odd at first, then intoxicating as it allowed both of them to become more connected.

"What are the rules of this...mmm..." Pan's question was stopped by Jean's interrupting kiss, and her hand on his neck; as the kiss naturally broke, her thumb slid across his lower lip where she had bitten him, and then replaced with her swollen lips once more.

She was intoxicating, and he was drunk, not because of any kind of alcoholic beverage but with her presence, her body moving against his, and her kiss...every part of Jean was calling out to him.

"No rules, really." Jean returned, licking her own lips. "Now...stop talking."

Pan was again surprised by that dominating tone of hers but captivated all the same. It was odd but he could feel himself falling for her all over again.

He found her soft spot as he lifted her leg, bending her knee to lie along his rib and her instant moaning thanked him for his discovery. Jean was a puddle beneathe his ministration, the way he was working her over.

In a kiss of his own, Pan told Jean in the calmest but mischeivous of tones, "Let's see if I can make Mommy scream."

Jean watched him pull out of her. He moved her legs apart, putting Jean on her back, and then kissed her clit, at first with his lips. Then with his tongue. Already made sensitive from her earlier orgasms, Jean was a hot mess as she was left moaning loudly as Pan circled his tongue many times around her clit, then over it; she practically jumped involuntarily.

"Peter, stop...I..."

Pan smiled against her skin and he watched her as he licked between the slick folds of her pussy, satisfied when her head tossed back involuntarily to his advances, but the pleasing moans that came from her mouth and the newly wet walls of her pussy betrayed her. Pan held her down as he tasted her and the heat of her sex. She was a moaning little devil, and god, how much he loved hearing her, it could have been a sin.

Jean came to him several times, and as she was gaining her composure from the exhaustion of it all, Pan pulled her to him. Jean smiled when he kissed her sweaty forehead.

After a moment, Jean was getting dressed and Pan was fixing his belt. They were quiet for a moment longer until Jean looked at Pan momentarily.

"You know Tink lost her wings?" Jean asked him conversationally as she straightened her dress and then redid the braiding of her hair.

Pan looked surprised.

"No." He said. "I didn't."

"Blue Fairy took them away," Jean explained. "So she's a crying mess. Is there anything you can do for her?"

Pan looked as though he was considering his options, while also watching amusedly as Jean tried to get all of her hair into a braid. Pan marched over to her, smacking her hands away; she turned around and he braided Jean's hair for her.

"She doesn't think you can but i wanted to be sure." Jean offered.

"I can do a lot of things but giving a Fairy back her wings isn't one of them," said Pan smoothly. "I trust her as a person on the island, but that magic is out of my hands."

Jean shrugged saying, "I still wanted to make sure. Tink's a good soul. Even if she's blinded by self-righteousness."

Pan tied the tail end of Jean's braid, then she turned around as if on cue.

"She's a bit miffed right now." Jean stated.

"Why's that?"

"Girl talk didn't go quite the way i thought it would." Jean said. She smiled, adding, "She's angry that we gave Jock to the mermaids...oh, and she thinks I'm not myself on the island."

"Why does she think that?"

"She found out I had killed my foster family prior to coming here," Jean said.

Pan shrugged, saying, "Why does that matter?"

Jean shrugged as well.

"She thought i was innocent this entire time, perhaps." Jean answered.

Pan smirked saying, "if that was true, I wouldnt have been dreaming about you day in and day out." He caressed her face, adding, "If you were innocent before, you aren't anymore."

Jean wiggled her nose at him like a bunny rabbit.

"Anything else i should know about?" Pan asked.

"No." Jean returned. "If there's an angry ex-Fairy walking about though, you will know why."

"I meant is there anything between you and Tinkerbell?" Pan asked more sternly.

Jean said smoothly, "What, you think I like girls or something?"

Pan's stern look didn't change so Jean sighed.

"No. There's nothing going on between Tink and me." She started to walk on.

Pan walked after her, catching up.

"*Do* you like girls?" Pan asked curiously.

"Yes." Jean returned. "But I *love* you."

"What if you and Tinkerbell..." Pan began, but Jean pushed him down a hill and he tumbled down before he could complete that thought.


	10. A Family Resemblance

It was afternoon, the sun was shining brightly. Summer in Neverland was like a tropical jungle (well, hotter than most tropical jungles). Toodles, Nibs, The Twins, Slightly, Devin, and Felix were all in the water, in their boxers, wading around or trying to drown the other boy, only until last minute letting the boy breathe a gasp of air before being dunked back again. New boys had come to Neverland a couple of nights ago while Pan had gone on his adventure to another land.

Out of the group of 4, only two had really wanted to stay behind. Their names were Jason, a 5 year old who relished the idea of doing whatever and whenever without being told what to do; and a quiet, shy boy by the name of Tock. Whether that was his real name or not, Jean wasn't sure, but it really matched his quirk of clicking his tongue whenever he had something smart to say, or he just had nothing to say and it was as good of a response as any. Tock was about 14, like some of the other boys on the island.

Jason was a little one, and he went by Jay. He said in not so many words that he liked a mockingjay, a bird that could sing the same tune of a whistle.

Jay and Tock were on their third day in Neverland and already knew a few of the ground rules of the island.

Number 1: Don't cross Pan.

Number 2: You can't escape without Pan's permission.

Number 3: Don't hurt the Queen.

Jay and Jock had not the luxury of meeting Jean until now, since Jean spent most of her time in Echo Cave, preferring the empty space and hollowed ground to the jungle. Since no one wanted to utter their darkest secrets, no one came. It was similar to Pan's thinking tree in Pixie Woods.

While Pan had joined the other boys in the water, having the equal pleasure of dunking Toodles this time around as the boy thrashed to breathe the oxygen galore, Jean sat in the sand, drawing what appeared to be a map for tonight's game. What it included was not completely known, not even to Pan. Pan loved guessing games and his dear heart knew too well, so she never gave him any details.

"What're you doin, tsk."

The clicking of that tongue at the end of the statement made Jean very aware that Tock had come towards her to inquire. She continued to draw the map with her index finger.

Without looking up, she answered him: "what does it look like I'm doing."

"Lookin' like to me like you're drawin' somethin'."

Jean rolled her eyes. 'What a twat', she thought sarcastically.

"It's a map." Jean returned calmly.

"Why you drawin' maps, tsk."

"What else would i be drawing?"

"A flower, maybe?"

Jean looked up at Tock, who wore the same raggedy clothes like the rest of the Lost Boys. His had more holes; just as well, he wore clothes that had originally been worn by Jock, the dead drowned one.

Jean gave him a second look, one out of surprise and the other out of skepticism, before returning her attention back to her map. She shifted to her knees, leaning over to get more details down before she lost her train of thought.

"Why you drawin a map?"

"Full of questions, this one." Jean muttered, shaking her head. She sat back, looking up at him. "It's for a game."

"A game, tsk. What kind of game?"

"A fun game." Jean answered patiently.

"Do i get to play?"

Jean smirked, saying, "If you're a good boy, maybe you can."

Whatever hormones this youngster had going on inside him, it began poking out through his pants. Jean ignored it; at this point, she was used to it. She was the only real human girl on the island. The boys never went to see Tinkerbell who was a somber pessimistic mess since the Blue Fairy stole her wings, and the mermaids...only nice to look at. Jean continued to draw her map, uninterrupted, as Tock took a seat across from her, his hands folded over his lap to hide his boner.

Jean inwardly smirked. It was fun making people uncomfortable.

"Do you plan a lot of these games?" Tock inquired.

"Yes."

"I thought Pan did. Tsk."

"No." Jean returned. "He plans the day ones. I do nights."

"So you all work in some kinda shifts then, tsk."

"Something like that."

"Tsk, Do you like it here?"

"Yes."

"Do you like him, tsk?"

"Who?"

"Pan. Do ya like Pan?" Tock questioned.

Jean sighed deeply, closing her eyes for want of patience. She opened her eyes and saw Tock intensely watching her. Not just her. He was looking her over from her bare pretty tanned legs, to her curvy hips, and then her bare shoulders. Jean gave him a cool look, then smirked. When Tock smirked too, Jean looked past him, then above his head.

"How's it coming along?"

Tock jumped, hearing Pan's voice but Jean smiled still. Apparently, Tock thought Jean had been giving *him* that look, but she'd been watching Pan walk up to them in his boxer shorts, his upper body wet with the ocean and gleaming from the sun. Jean tilted her head when Pan bent at an angle so they kissed briefly.

"It's coming," Jean mused. "I'd tell you the details but i know how much you like guessing games."

"That, i do." Pan agreed as he sat on the edge of the rock against which Jean leaned her back.

They seemed to ignore Tock, who was watching the two talk; there was a bit of amusement and interest in his eyes.

"Tell me bits of it," Pan said. "But nothing important."

"Well, it has to deal with a few trees...a few caves," listed Jean.

"Echo Caves?"

"No," said Jean dismissively. "Originally, yes, but i amended it."

"Any possibility of losing anyone?" asked Pan.

"Unlikely." Jean returned.

"How is this fun again?" Pan questioned.

"Loss of limb is likely," Jean offered sweetly.

"That's better, but you might want to keep working on it though."

"If you think you can do it better, then..."

Pan held his hands up as in a surrender saying, "No, no, no, you wanted to do this one." He smiled at her when Jean rolled her eyes, tilting her head mockingly.

"I'm still in the process of making it," Jean admitted. "But it'll be good. You'll see."

"I'm sure either way, I'll be pleasantly surprised," Pan remarked, noting his good faith in Jean's game planning.

He pushed himself off the rock, taking a knee beside her. Pan touched his lips against her cheek in a small, slow kiss and Jean smiled at him as he straightened.

"Where are you going?" asked Jean.

"Back in the water, babe. We're going to try and drown Felix next. I want in." Pan said as he walked backwards, and with a mischeivous wink, he hopped into the water going back to the center where the other boys were.

Jean watched after him, then she looked at Tock who was grinning at her.

"What the hell are you smiling on about?" Jean questioned.

"So you do like Pan," teased Tock.

"Of course I do. We're together." Jean retorted irritably.

"If i didn't know any better, I'd say you two were goin' around like a married couple, tsk." Tock noted loudly, rocking back and forth in his seat.

"Well, apparently, you *dont* know any better," Jean mused, "because we aren't married."

"Might as well be."

Jean gave him a look, but she couldn't help but smile as she watched Pan roar with laughter when Felix broke the surface dramatically, taking in large breaths as he knocked one of the other boys into the water; when Toodles declared Felix had damn near knocked out one of his teeth, all the boys, including Pan and Felix, doubled over in laughter.

"Do you like to swim?" asked Tock.

Jean sighed. This guy was just full of questions. and he was only fourteen. Hopefully, Jay, the five year old, wouldn't be so inquisitive. That theory was shot when the aforementioned little one (littlest of any Lost Boy currently) waddled over in small brown clothes and wearing a makeshift cape (it was a hoodie tied around his neck).

"Tock, what you doing."

"Talking to Jean."

Jay looked up at Jean, who looked at him in return. With a smile, Jay pointed at her head, and said honestly, "You purty."

"Thank you." Jean returned nicely.

"My daddy would love to fuck you." Jay stated nonchalantly.

Jean and Tock stared at Jay incredulously, taken aback by the statement...by a five year old at that.

"I'm sorry?" Jean said, still trying to get over her shock.

"My daddy says that thing to girls like you." Jay said, shrugging. "Don' kno' what means by that. Don't know what he says. Don't know. But that's what says...he does, anyway."

Jean noted that the five year old could speak fine for the most part, but the fragments made her awkwardly try to piece together his points of dialogue. That would come with time, she expected.

"Does..." Jean cleared her throat. "Does your father like girls like me?"

"Yeah."

"Like-like?"

"Yeah," said Jay, shrugging. "Don know why. He has my mom."

"How old is your mom?" Tock asked.

Jay shrugged, saying, "She just old."

Jean frowned.

"Do you know what the word 'fuck' means, sweetheart?" asked Jean quietly.

Jay shook his head.

As if obliged, Tock blurted, "It means to have sex. Like fucking a girl, or fucking your broad. Or it'd be like when dogs like each other, they sniff each other's butts and the bitch is all 'fuck me' and the dog does the thing to get it pregnant so it can breed. And when the dog is done fucking, he just poops beside her and then they're..."

"Alright, enough!" Jean snapped, smacking Tock on the shoulder.

Jay looked ready to either cry or throw up.

"I was just..." Tock began.

"Just nothing. He's fucking five years old!" Jean snapped.

She crawled over to Jay, whose face had turned a deep shade of red, and took him in her arms.

"Forget everything the idiot just said," Jean cooed. "You don't need to know what that word means...or god forbid what dogs do when they like each other."

Jay placed his head on Jean's shoulder, relaxed by her patting on his back and the softness of her voice.

"So do you and Pan fuck?" Tock asked.

Jean stared at him.

"Felix!" Jean called. "Get over here!"

Felix and Pan glanced at one another from the ocean's water. Pan nodded for him to go and Felix dutifully jogged to where Jean held Jay, and Tock looked absurdly interested in whatever Jean may have to say next.

"What happened? What's wrong?" asked Felix, glancing between the three of them. He noticed Jay, who may have been upset earlier, lying on Jean's side with his head on her shoulder.

"Tock says he wants to play too," Jean said with a forced smile.

"Does he?" Felix inquired.

"Yes." Jean said through gritted teeth. "He wants to."

"I don't..." Tock began, but Felix had him up by the arm.

"Oh come on! We don't bite!" Felix said, jabbing the guy in the side with his elbow. He practically dragged him the way to the shore while the other boys hooted and hollered for another person to play with them.

Meanwhile, Jay still appeared quite upset so Jean gently placed him beside her.

"Do you want to help me invent a game, sweetie?" Jean asked.

"A game?" Jay asked, his ears perking.

"Yes. It's for tonight and I may need some help." Jean said, smiling when he stood and waddled over to the center of the map, looking down at everything and then at her.

"I never help with games. Daddy isn't..."

"He isn't here." Jean said softly. "And neither is your mom. But we're your new family now." She held out her hand.

"So...no daddy...or..."

"We're your new family, dearest." Jean cooed, smiling at him sweetly.

Jay looked incredibly happy at that thought.

"You...my new mommy?" Jay asked.

"If you want me to be, i can be." Jean returned.

Jay beamed.

He looked at the map and scrunched his face as if in hard concentration.

"Let work this map." He said, although Jean was sure he meant 'let's get to work on this map'.

Pan was in the middle of dunking an angry, upset Tock when Felix was smiling widely. Pan held Tock down under just long enough for the bubbles to stop popping and at that moment, Felix tapped him on the shoulder.

Distracted, Pan let go of Tock who burst through the water like a cannon ball, coughing and hacking away as the other lost boys howled and start cracking up with laughter.

"What?" Pan demanded.

Felix nodded his head to the side in the direction of Jean; Pan looked to see her and the smallest lost boy discussing, in deep conversation, the game for tonight. Apparently, Jean had enlisted an apprentice.

Pan smirked when the boy was jumping up and down and then hugged Jean, who appeared awkward as her hands remained hovering in the air. After a long moment, Jean (uncomfortably) placed her arms around the boy.

"She's really becoming a Mother." Felix noted.

"That, she is," Pan said smoothly. "If she were older...and a drunk...she'd remind me of someone I once knew."

Felix gave him a curious glance, but Pan said nothing more.

What Pan didn't tell Felix is that a long time ago, he had been in love with another woman and that had brought him a son named Rumplestiltskin. Rumple's mother had become too drunk one night though and the lass had left him to deal with the little pink thing swaddled in clothes alone.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like playing anymore.

Felix inquired as to where he'd be going and Pan answered, "You know where."

"You'll tell Jean?" Pan asked.

"Of course," said Felix. "I'll let her know."

Pan stepped onto the shore, threw on his shirt and pulled his pants over his wet boxers and then walked off in a solemn daze, thinking of how he and his son might have been just fine if Jean had been Rumple's mother instead.

()()()()()()()

Jean looked everywhere for Pan after the swim. She had just come down from the treehouse when she met Felix at the bottom; he was leaned against the treehouse itself, club in hand, and a drink in the other, polishing off the last of the rum stolen from the pirates beforehand. Jean figured at some point, they'd be off to retrieve more of it later.

"He's at his Thinking Tree," Felix said smoothly. "If that's who you're looking for."

"Who else would i be looking for?" asked Jean sarcastically.

"Tinkerbell?" offered Felix.

Jean gave him a curious look.

Felix chuckled, "Pan told me a spinning tale about how you may like girls."

"Oh great," Jean muttered. "Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm not looking for a sexual escapade with Tinkerbell. At the moment, she's not the most enlightened pussy on the island, so don't mind me."

Felix said, "It's not a wonder to me how you keep Pan interested. That mouth of yours is a little off the charts."

Jean narrowed her eyes at him.

"Are you coming onto me, Felix?"

"I'm not stupid enough or drunk enough to do that," Felix mused. "Just stating the facts."

"Your facts border on passing my limits for perverted conversation, dear." Jean stated, crossing her arms.

Felix made a small bow out of apology, and Jean smiled at him.

"Why did Peter leave so early?"

"Something about you playing with Jay seemed to do something to him," Felix said.

"Is he worried I will fall for a toddler?" Jean scoffed.

"I think it's something else."

Jean tilted her head to side.

"Enlighten me."

"He never said what it was that upset him."

"Then humor me."

Felix sighed deeply, rolling his eyes up to the forest ceiling before he admitted, "I mentioned to him that you were turning out to be a real mother figure and he said you were. He never told me why it bothered him. I didn't ask why it bothered him. I honestly don't even know if it *did* bother him." He looked at Jean expectantly: "Satisfied."

"Hardly," Jean returned. "I guess I will ask him myself when i see him."

"He just asked me to tell you where he had gone so you didn't worry."

Jean sighed, "Better than saying nothing, I suppose."

Felix held out a small wooden cup, offering it to her.

"Not tonight." Jean declined politely. "I have a game in mind."

"Is it dangerous?"

"This is Neverland," Jean mused. "Every game played here is dangerous."

"Loss of limb?" Felix asked hopefully.

"You'll see." said Jean.

"Since a five year old helped, I can only imagine I will be happy either way. They're the most reckless in Neverland, you know. All that imagination ripe for the picking."

Jean chuckled, saying, "Imagination isn't an apple, Felix."

"Could be if you wanted it to be," Felix reminded. "All you have to do is think about something and you have it. Speaking of which, I like your dress. Really gives you that dangerous, mermaid look."

Jean beamed.

"Thank you for noticing." Jean said.

"Can you twirl for me?"

"Felix!"

"Sorry," Felix said, shrugging a shoulder. "The rum hit me a lot quicker than i thought it would." He gestured behind him saying, "I'm going to go back to camp."

Jean watched him walk back. A half hour might have figuratively passed if time was kept on Neverland. Jean heard a small 'swooosh'. Expectantly, she turned to see Pan leaning against a tree. He was always leaning against something, not that she was complaining; it made him look sexy, and bad ass.

"Felix tell you where i was?" Pan asked.

"Yes."

Pan approached her, looking out of sorts.

"Is something wrong?" asked Jean.

Pan continued to stare at her as if she might fly up a chimney, be out of his sights in a blink of an eye. The look he gave her was so intense that Jean stepped back a hair, uncertain as to what he might be thinking.

"Have you ever thought about leaving Neverland?" Pan asked.

Jean stopped for a second. Isnt that what Jock had asked her as Pan? Jean narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"No. Not once." Jean returned the same response as she had given Jock. "Never. Why?"

"No reason. Just wondering." Pan mused.

Jean felt even more suspicious. She then asked carefully, "Have *you* ever wanted to leave Neverland?"

"From time to time..." Pan returned and shortly after, Jean shoved him against a tree, her hand on his chest and her dagger placed against his throat, the blade slightly digging into his skin.

As this had become unprecedented, Pan looked nothing but shocked as he watched Jean's face contort in rage and suspicion.

"That's the same fucking thing Jock said when he tried to be Peter Pan," said Jean dangerously. "Who are you now, *Lost Boy*? Toodles? Tock?"

"I'm Peter Pan," Pan said immediately, staring at Jean as if she were off her rocker.

"Liar!" Jean shouted. "Peter Pan would never want to leave Neverland! You're either some boy trying to trick me or some lost pretentious fuck who wants to live no longer because anyone foolish enough to do this a second time has nothing to lose!"

"Jean..." Pan said softly, "I am Peter Pan. It's me!"

Jean stared at him.

"What's my name?" Jean questioned.

"Jean."

"My *full* name, Jackass."

Pan stared at her, then answered calmly, "Titiana Jean Everheart."

"Clever," Jean growled. "You're a clever lost boy, aren't you, 'Peter'. Maybe you can answer another question. If you can't get this one right, I will draw my blade across your pretty little neck and watch you bleed out before me."

Pan raised his eyebrows, impressed (or maybe scared); at this point, Jean was uncertain.

"Life is made up of many moments," breathed Jean, her voice ragid and wavering. "When Peter and i met in my dreams for the very first time, he promised me something very dear that no one else ever did. What did he promise?"

Pan looked at her for a moment and then he answered her: "You wanted freedom, to be away from those people who were after you for killing your parents; I said you could kill anyone on the island, and not even I would stop you."

Jean stared at him, dropping her dagger.

"You." Jean whispered.

"Me."

"You'd want to leave the island?" Jean asked quietly.

Pan shrugged while rubbing his neck where her blade had made contact a little too roughly.

"I only thought about it today," Pan admitted.

"Why would you want that?" asked Jean.

"I saw you..." Pan said sternly. "With the little one..what's his face..."

"Jason."

"Is that his name?"

"Well, he goes by 'Jay'," Jean returned more specifically.

"Right. Well, I saw you with him. How you were with him." Pan articulated with some effort.

Jean smiled kindly.

"And for a second," she said softly, "You saw your own son?"

Pan stared at her.

"Why would you say something like that?" asked Pan.

Jean shrugged, saying, "Felix said something bothered you when you saw me playing with Jay. The only other time I have ever seen you go to your tree is to think about your son. That's why you go there; because that's where it happened, right?"

Pan gave her a calm, calculating look. Jean knew him just as well as he knew her, but sometimes, he had forgotten just *how* much she knew. It would be scary if it weren't the fact Pan knew he had her undying loyalty. And that kept him from killing her, amongst many other reasons.

"What bothered you more?" asked Jean. "Seeing Jay as your son or me as..."

"His mother," Pan interrupted.

Jean blinked. She'd heard plenty stories about Rumple (although mostly bad ones where Rumple ruined every good change of Pan making a good life for himself), but she never heard stories about Rumple's mother. Come to think of it, Jean had never heard her name spoken from the lips of her King.

"What about her?" Jean asked.

Pan said nothing, more or less because when spoken aloud, the simple thought became more than just an abstract notion. It would become an affirmation of the truth and it would present more than just a simple idea. Pan inhaled deeply then sighed, shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter," said Pan. "It's nothing."

Jean's eyebrows knitted together into a curious expression, knowing full well that he was about to admit something to her greater than having abandoned his son. Pan seemed torn between telling her the truth, or just letting it go. He'd apparently chosen the easier route.

She approached him, taking his hand.

"You can tell me anything." Jean reassured.

Pan pulled away from her.

Coldly, he said, "Let it go, Jean."

He walked past her, brushing against her shoulder grumpily and then headed to the campsite where the children, including Felix, were playing. While Pan thought the conversation over, Jean felt otherwise and followed him, snatching his wrist and pulling him back.

To Jean's confirmation, the last of the rum (which included about five bottles of it) were being used for the celebration of welcoming Neverland's two new Lost Boys, Jay and Tock, who were sitting on the log before the fire with proud, happy expressions on their face. The drums were beaten, and the rum was being passed like a hookah.

From the camp, the Lost Boys watched Jean and Pan talk in low, dulcet voices. At first, they looked to have a deep conversation about something on the island but as Felix took another swig from the bottle, he noticed Pan and Jean's expressions turning to ones of anger.

This wasn't going to be quite the celebration they had expected.

"I said for you to let it go!" Pan told her for the third time.

"And I'm saying we should talk about it." Jean snapped, stepping towards him, challenging. "You tell me everything, Peter. Why not this?"

"As I said, it's unimportant."

"Not to me," Jean retorted. "Your problem is with me being around Jay. Are you jealous I'd fuck a toddler or something?"

"No," Pan responded pointedly, although he looked surprised and disgusted that she even would suggest that kind of thing. "You're making something out of nothing."

"It may mean nothing to you but it means something to me," Jean said. "You said I reminded you something about Rumple's mother. What did she do?"

"Jean..."

"What did she *do*?" Jean interrogated.

"ENOUGH ALREADY!" Pan ordered, loud enough that the camp fifty feet away had mometarily stopped the momentous occasion and the children quickly glanced in their direction.

Jean stared at him.

"You're such a girl, you know that?" Pan demanded. "I said it's nothing and you constantly come at me. What does it take for you to piss off?"

Jean crossed her arms.

"You're not angry at me because I'm bugging you," said Jean coolly. "You're angry at me because there's something you really want to say, but you're afraid to say it because I may reject you."

Pan stared at her. A normal girl would have retorted something immature or hateful and then bound off crying. A normal girl would have stormed off by now, insistent that she hated Pan and Neverland and everything in between. But Jean showed a little more maturity than that, and that was a curious thing all by itself...however, infuriating.

He glanced at the camp, which then became lively again when the boys had met Pan's malevolent glare. He slowly turned to Jean, who uncrossed her arms to appear more friendly and open. It worked a little.

"Jean." Pan sighed. "You are undoubtedly the most infuriating, interesting hottest girl I have ever met."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me?" Jean inquired blankly.

"No." Pan uttered. "Unforunately, you will never know."

"Why is that?" Jean questioned.

"Because if i tell you, it only confirms what I know."

"If you already know it," said Jean, "then what does it matter if it is said aloud?"

Pan glared at her, muttering, "You're not helping me at all."

"I'm trying to," said Jean, "but you're being too damn stubborn to help yourself. I have told you my darkest secrets, Peter. Why can you not do the same?"

Pan said nothing. Jean sighed.

"You want to live on an island with me for infinite years," Jean said calmly. "You want me to love a man in a child's body, a man who traded his son for youth but you can't tell me why I remind you of your son's mother?"

Jean touched Pan's face, her hand as gentle as a feather, but her eyes sang of pain.

"Where does that leave *me*?" Jean inquired. "What am I to you?"

Pan placed his palm over the back of hers.

"You really want to know the truth about you?" Pan questioned.

Jean nodded.

"Even if it meant leaving this place?"

Jean said, "My happy ending is you, Peter. Neverland, mermaids, pirates, the boys...none of that means anything to me if you're not in it."

Pan looked at her, then at the camp.

Jean watched him, and finally he folded.

"Seeing you with Neison..."

"Jason," Jean interrupted.

"Whatever," Pan dismissed.

Jean chuckled.

Pan said softly, "Seeing you with him made me think of Rumple. You were right about that."

"Go on," Jean encouraged gently.

"But...my secret is..." Pan sighed deeply. "There are times when I wish you had been Rumple's mother. Maybe...maybe things would have been different...actually. I'm sure they would have."

Jean looked at him curiously.

"That's very sweet, Peter. But that doesn't explain how it's your darkest secret."

Pan said quietly, "It's not."

"Then what is it?" asked Jean.

"There are moments when you talk, when you..." Pan began, but he looked uncomfortable.

"When I what?"

"When you...talk during..." Pan managed.

"What, like dirty talk?" Jean offered.

"Yes," said Pan. "There are times when you do all that, it reminds me a great deal of Rumple's mother. It sometimes makes me think that you might very well be...well..."

Jean stared at him.

"You think I'm somehow related to her?" Jean inquired, surprised.

Pan shrugged, "It was a theory...or...you may even *be* her."

Jean pondered this herself.

"Would that even be possible?" She asked.

Pan shrugged, saying, "You should see *my* lineage. And reincarnation isn't impossible. It has happened before."

Jean didn't quite understand what he meant by that, only knowing that Rumplestiltskin had somehow become the Dark One. Knowing she was with the one that created a man who could become the Dark One had been a complete turn-on, but aside from that family blood line, she didn't quite understand. Jean expected she would know eventually.

"Even if I am related to her," said Jean pointedly, "I don't see how that would bother you so much."

"If i had met you and not her, my life would have been completely different." Pan admitted more easily now that the awkward part seemed to be out of the way.

"So whats made you avoid me is the thought that you could have a happy ending with me outside of Neverland?" Jean asked.

Pan nodded.

"Hm. Well, if you wanted to go to the real world, I'd go with you." Jean offered. "As I said, you are my happiness. If all I have is you, I am happy no matter where we go to live. The important thing is that we are together."

Pan stared at her.

"What?" Jean asked.

"That's what he said before..." Pan began, but stopped.

Before he was taken by the Shadow, Jean knew. She didnt need to be told the story more than once. So Jean obviously bore some resemblance to whoever Rumple's mother was, and maybe even so, had some resemblance to Rumplestiltskin. That might be all coincidence, right...Right?

"Well," said Jean slowly. "I can certainly see why this was upsetting for you."

"Can you?" Pan remarked sarcastically.

"Sass levels are really high," Jean warned.

Pan smiled at her.

"Does it make it awkward?" Pan asked; he rubbed his shoulders. "It has made me feel awkward."

Jean giggled, saying, "Only if you let it."

She stood in front of him, smiling.

"Let's say for shits and giggles, I *am* related to her, or let's say even further, I am a reincarnation of Rumple's mother."

"Not making this any less awkward," Pan noted.

"In comparison, am I prettier?"

"Yes," Pan replied. "And less drunk too."

"Well, there's about two bottles left of Rum at the camp if you want to change that." Jean reminded, smiling at him. "And if I were the reincarnation of your son's mother, since I bear a great deal of resemblance to her, you could imagine you may very well have a second chance at happiness. Right?"

Pan sent a crooked smile her way. Jean wrapped an arm around his waist as he placed one around her shoulders, and they strolled back to the campsite. Pan watched her talk to a drunken Felix who hiccuped and fell back off the stump he'd been sitting on as Jean rolled her eyes.

Pan watched her. However, there was a flicker of the slightest light, and he could definitely see the resemblence between Rumple's mother and Jean. Maybe Jean was a descendent; it was possible. But Jean could have been a split image of her with her brown eyes, brown hair, and the way she would tempt him into a smile of his own. If she aged 20 more years, she'd definitely look like her...well, probably healthier and sexier considering she didn't drink or smoke...or sleep around with the entire village. The exception of Jean *not* being related was that she was hopelessly devoted to him and his Lost Boys; she was a healthy spunk of sunshine, and prettier than sin.

Another point being that if Jean really was Rumple's mother, that would explain why Pan had been dreaming of her and why she had been dreaming of him. Perhaps, Fate wanted to give them a second go?

When Jean handed him a wooden goblet of ale, Pan took it and quickly kicked it back, hoping it quieted his brain and assuaged his thoughts of Rumple's mother so he could focus on the lovely lass on his knee who was getting more and more giddy by the glass.

One thing, Pan knew, was for certain. If Jean truly *was* the second chance at love, Pan would make sure she never got away from him again.


	11. Drunk

The last bottle of Rum was currently being polished off, as the fire was roaring; Felix and Tock and Jay were constantly running back and forth into the forest to pop more firewood on the already angry fire, and it only began growing and growing. It was large enough that Jean and Pan had pushed the sitting logs a ways away so the rest of the 'furniture' would not be scorched in the process of turning the simple campfire into what would now be considered a bonfire. If they did not stop anytime soon, it would turn into a forest fire.

"Iiiiii think thatssss enough wood, guuyyys," Felix slowly slurred, plopping down on the log, missing by inches as he rubbed his bottom. He glared at Jean and Pan, who had moved it.

"Careful where sits." Jay reminded Felix.

Felix made a swipe with his club after Jay, who squeaked and ran. He ducked under Jean's arm, pulling her arm around him to hide from Felix's drunken heightened madness, which was funny to watch.

Tock held the bottle in his hand, and he stood, swaying a bit. He laughed and said something which was both inaudible and unintelligent, and slurred so it only sounded as though he had tried pronouncing a bunch of letters typed together at random.

"lhsihtwssvbyy." Tock said, laughing. "Tsakiowiefh dhsdjg hsuiquhf."

Jean laughed at his drunkeness, pointing at him, "You're drunk off your fucking ass, you twat."

Her laughter spiked into shrieks when Tock had a turned quickly to make a point; in doing so, Rum had spilled from the bottle into the fire and lit him up like a torch; he ran around wildly, flailing his arms above his head until Pan suddenly stood up, grabbed him by the collar and threw him into a huge puddle made by the rain two nights ago.

Staggering slightly, Pan lowered himself down, his arm outstretched on the back of the log, his hand rested on Jean's shoulder as he and Jean sat on the ground. All of them were lit like the moon in the cloudless night sky, but out of all them, Jay was the most sober.

Toodles, Slightly, The Twins, Nibs, and Devin were passed out in various hilarious positions; Felix was now sitting, talking to Tock about some wily crocodile he encountered on his first night here. Pan had gone through a bottle of his own, and Jean had about half a bottle. Jay, because he was five, had been prohibited by Jean to have any alcohol.

Even when she was drunk, Jean was a mother hen.

"So i had him in my clutches," Felix narrated, holding his hands out in front him as he slowly blinked back his balance, "And i held him..i held him like, like this. And then when it stopped moving, i...I took...I took mymymymy club and..." He made a dramatic movement with aforementioned club; he lost his balance, unceremoniously falling onto his face.

Jean cracked up again, her shoulders shaking violently and her eyes tearing up.

Seeing Jean laugh made Jay laugh. He pointed at Felix.

Tock, on the otherhand, was busy staring at Pan. Jean found this behavior odd but unknown to her, Pan was watching *her*.

It was as though he was entranced by her, like he couldn't get enough. Jean glanced at him curiously, smiling when he sent her that familiar crooked grin.

"Anyway," Felix continued abruptly, "That croc hadn't..er...didn't...see it coming either way as well." He smiled dopely, then realized no one was listening.

Jean stood up slowly, staggering towards Tock, who smirked at her. One of her sleeves was lower than its usual place and the top of her breast a little in his sight. Jean held out her hand and he took it. She waved her hand as if she hadnt wanted that. Then Tock started to undo his pants.

"Whatthefuckareyoudoing?" Jean slurred.

"Just..."

Jean took the bottle of rum out of his hand, rolling her eyes. She then walked back to her seat beside Pan. Tock appeared mortified (as he should have been) as he watched Jean fumble with the top of the bottle. She became gradually irritated, smacking it, then thudding it on the ground.

"Can't get this fucking fuck thingy open!" Jean snapped. She tried turning the top. "It won't twist open..." She then tried biting it. "Motherfucking thing with its whore top. The thing is as stubborn as a virgin on a day that isn't her wedding."

Felix and Pan were laughing as they watched Jean struggle with the bottle. Tock was just amazed by the dirty mouth on Jean, having never heard a lady curse like a sailor before. Jay reached out and took the bottle and twisted it to the left instead of to the right as Jean had been doing. It popped open.

"Here go." Jay offered, handing it back to Jean.

He was a little thing when short legs and short arms. He had a small tiny hair cut, colored a sandy brown, and those big blue eyes were just looking at her as if he had done something good for himself and for his mother. Jean beamed at him, and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

"Good boy, jay." Jean complimented.

The toddler beamed with joy.

Pan smiled at her.

"Felix." Pan called.

Felix stood up and looked at him.

"Yes, my King?!" He shouted loudly.

Pan held his hears when the guy had bellowed it, and he looked at him pointedly, "No need to shout, Felix. I'm right here."

"Ap...apologies, oh youthful one." Felix mused, bowing down deeply.

"Stop that." Pan told him.

"Yes, your Neverlandedness."

"Felix." Pan chastised.

"Yes, your pixie dustedness."

"Stop." Pan ordered, but Jean patted his knee.

"No, let him go. I want to see what he comes up with next." Jean whispered.

Pan rolled his eyes, muttering, "If you wish it."

Jean leaned forward.

"Felix." Jean began, knowing what would come next.

Another deep bow from Felix, and he said, "Whatcanidoforyou...oh...O' Beauty."

"Felix..." Jean said, holding back her laughter.

"Yes, my Queen of starry...of starry night...of starry nightedness."

Pan snorted, putting a hand over his mouth so he wouldn't crack up. Pan gestured for her to continue and Jean was doing her best not to laugh herself silly, but her question came out shakily in ode to controlling herself.

"F-Felix."

"Yes, my scrumptious beauty-mus..ness.." Felix slurred. Each time he answered, he did so in the most dramatic of ways, and always made a bow each time, going deeper and deeper and deeper into it until on the last go, he fell over into a somer sault.

Pan and Jean howled with laughter, hitting the ground with their hands and leaning on each other as they saw Felix look around and ask, "For for a moment the sky was all black and then it looked like...like dirt!"

Jean held her stomach, tears falling out of her eyes. Pan appeared similar, although he seemed in more need of oxygen than anything; when Felix propped himself up by his club, the laughter subsided. Jay looked at all of them as if they had gone mad.

"I'm...going to lie down," Felix mumbled, holding his head. "Startin' to get baaaaaaa-aaad feeling over here." He made one last bow and then staggered to his place in the camp where he slept.

All that remained were Jay, Tock, Jean and Pan. At the moment, Jay was nestled against Jean's side, his head lying just underneath her arm. Jean looked down at him, then at Pan, who shrugged. Jean shrugged too, but more or less felt uncomfortable. She cleared her throat, maybe hoping for Jay to leave and go find somewhere else to sleep, but the toddler was already snoozing.

"He's kind of cute," Jean mumbled.

Pan watched her through heavy lidded eyes, starting to feel a little sleepy himself.

Tock began, "Doyouthink therhghsjfhg..."

Jean scowled, saying, "You're wasted, Tock. Go to bed."

"But I'm hghakdhsjdgh."

Jean pointed in the direction of his cot.

"Go to bed, young man." Jean ordered.

Muttering vehemently, Tock did as he was told and angrily kicked a rock, regretting the decision immediately as he stubbed his toe and cursed all the way back to his cot. Jean watched him, shaking her head.

"Parenting isn't all as it's cracked up to be." Pan said quietly.

Jean looked at him, surprised by the statement. She saw him. Looking at her in a different light.

"Are you still thinking about that?" asked Jean.

"About what?" Pan asked, squinting his eyes as if trying to stay awake.

"Her. The mother...Rumple's mom."

"Kindof." Pan slurred, but he took no notice in it. He sighed, holding the bridge of nose as if keeping back an oncoming headache.

Jean patted her lap saying, "Lie down. Come on..."

He shifted his position so he could rest his head on her lap. Jean's voice sounded so soothing, so soft and low. It was hard to resist the temptation to lie down on someone whose voice could calm the ocean's most tepid storms.

"Let's say in theory, I am her." Jean mused, her head slightly cleared of the alcohol thanks to the sobering conversation; Pan was too far gone though as he had downed a whole bottle for himself. He looked up at her; Jean began brushing his bangs off his forehead, her fingers coarsing thoughtfully through his hair as he smirked at her.

"Let's say, I am." Jean told him. "Would there be any way to find out?"

"Magic has a lot of loopholes," Pan reasoned tiredly. "Any magic can be undone. You just...you have to find it."

"So there is a way." Jean offered.

Pan responded in mid-yawn, "Yes."

"Would you want to find it?"

Pan looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, saying, "I'd be able to, sure. But would *you* want to remember who you are?"

Jean shrugged, saying, "If I'm her...I don't know. I'd like to know if I am. Like you said, I resemble her a great, great deal. If I am, don't you think I deserve to know?"

"Yeah, but..." Pan sat up. "You would have abandoned Rumple and me, and gone off doing god knows what. Do you really want to remember that?"

Jean smiled at him, saying, "It wouldn't matter now, would it? I mean, we're together *now* and that's a lot more important. Plus, it's not like I would forget who i am right now. I would just also be something else. Like you're Peter Pan but Malcolm is still there but you are still you. I'd be me but also this woman."

Pan looked at her uncertainly.

"Why?" asked Jean curiously. "Why do*you* not want it to happen?"

Pan sighed, saying, "I just don't want you to get this memory back and realize you made a mistake coming to the island with me."

"Well, if you think it's a bad idea, we won't do it." Jean resolved serenely. "It's just a thought. I love you and I love Neverland. I'm quite content."

She yawned. Pan lied back down with his head on her lap, now faced with a new conflict.

Should he find out if Jean really was Rumple's mother, Evanna? If she did remember who she used to be, would that affect what happiness they had for the past century? Pan frowned...if Jean wouldn't be with him if she knew everything about herself, was it really worth having Jean be with him at all?

Damn it, Pan thought. Just something else he had to chew on. Couldn't have been bothered with a nice long sleep.

Jean looked at him tiredly as he sat up.

"What?" asked Jean.

Pan decided calmly, "We'll find out who you used to be."

"Really?" asked Jean, shocked. "What..."

"I don't like the idea, but I want you to be with me because you want to be." Pan told her. "If you don't have all of your memories, then you're not really choosing to be here...not the real you anyway. And if i was in your position, I'd want all the facts before I made that kind of decision."

Jean smirked, saying, "I never knew you could be so empathetic."

"Only for you." Pan said, taking back his pride. "Only for you."

"Thank you." Jean said sweetly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Pan muttered. "But once we're through with all of this, I don't want to ever hear I never do anything for you."

Jean blinked, saying, "When have i ever said that?"

"You haven't, but now you never will." Pan responded.

Jean giggled.


	12. A Price To Pay

A/N: for those who have read thus far, I appreciate you all :) I've taken an elegant spin on the Neverland Arc so no broken hearts, I hope. It will be a while before we jump into that whole thing with Emma and Henry, so just enjoy the ride! Hope i didn't lose anyone, but if i did...well, who fucking cares; they can ride their own story! Love you all!

()()()()()

Jean awoke, her head banging on walls. When she did, the first thing she noticed was that Pan was gone. She rolled her eyes, not exactly surprised but still a little miffed. Oddly enough, she had remembered the conversation last night. Maybe he was in a down spiral of a hang over as she was currently experiencing.

"Ugh..." Jean groaned. She held her head.

"Good morning, Sunshine."

Jean glanced up to see Felix holding out a wooden goblet of what appeared to be water. She took it gingerly, still using the other hand to hold her temple. Felix sat beside her.

"Where is everyone?"

Felix chuckled, saying, "You'll never guess."

"Unlike Peter, I don't like guessing games. Neither does my headache." Jean told him calmly. She practically inhaled the water, only feeling more thirsty.

Felix offered her a bowl of warm, tomato soup. Jean smiled at him thankfully, and took a few small sips, then lifted herself onto a rock; Felix saw her stumble slightly, so he caught her and eased her back on the ground.

"You ought to be more careful." Felix said.

"What do you..." Jean began, but she noticed a slight burn on her arm. Where had she gotten that? More importantly, when?

"What happened last night...this morning?" Jean asked, looking up to see that the sun was bright orange, most likely it was late afternoon or the fresh start of sunset.

"We all were drunk," said Felix, shrugging. "I don't remember much. But whatever you and Pan talked about put him on a mission a few hours ago."

Jean stared at him, saying, "What do you mean?"

"Scavenger hunt," Felix said.

Jean blinked, saying, "Am I supposed to understand what you mean by that or take a shot in the dark guess?"

"Aren't we grumpy," Felix taunted.

Jean glared daggers at him, and Felix held his hand up in surrender. He then placed a hand in his pocket, and pulled out a piece of parchment, holding it out to her like a peace offering. Jean took it from him gingerly, looking at it.

It looked like a relic, burnt on the edges with old-looking handwriting all over it. It had barely eligible penmanship, it appeared to be a shopping list, although the person writing it could have made a living as a doctor; it was hard to make out but with some time and effort, one could read it.

Jean looked at Felix, dumbfounded.

"What is this?"

"It's a scavenger hunt," answered Felix.

"Funny. That's what Im sure he told the others. What did he tell *you*." Jean demanded, standing carefully to her feet.

Felix smirked saying, "Pan sometimes underestimates your ability to see through his games, Jean. You never fail to impress me."

"Fantastic. I'll say again. Tell me what this is," said Jean calmly. "And that's not a request."

"You needn't threaten *me*, my Queen." Felix returned, getting to his feet. "I'll show you myself."

"Show me *what*."

Felix only smiled at her and Jean was forced to follow him to see just what the heck Pan was up to now. On the way to...well, wherever he was taking her, Jean was adamant about finding out before they arrived at Felix's unspoken destination.

"Is it a game?" asked Jean.

"You know Pan," sighed Felix almost tiredly. "Everything is a game to him."

"Not when it concerns me," Jean pointed out.

Felix nodded, looking ahead but commenting seriously, "That's very true."

"Of course, it's true." Jean stated. "That's why i said it."

Felix sighed. He wondered why he was always annointed the body guard for Jean when Pan wasn't around. Perhaps Pan could trust only him to do the deed, and while some would call it an honor, Felix could very well ponder how Pan put up with her sass. Jean pushed aside a large plant, paying mind to step over any scary looking thorns.

"Watch your step," Felix warned.

Jean gave him a look. She knew this part of the jungle just as well as he did. She didn't have to be told that there was dreamshade near by. Jean held her head again, knowing her hang over was just making her more irritated than usual.

"Where are we going?" Jean questioned with exasperation.

"You'll see."

"I have an idea." Jean said from him. "We're on our way to Echo Caves."

"Are we?"

"Yes," said Jean irritably. "I come here to think. You all know this."

"Then maybe that's where we are going," offered Felix.

"I'm reaching the end of my rope," warned Jean.

"Well, don't worry about that because we are here," said Felix.

Jean growled as she pushed past him and wasn't surprised to see a cage, empty and barred. What in the ridiculous hell was going on? As she slowly turned to look at Felix, she was steadily becoming enraged.

"What is this?" asked Jean.

"Cage."

"I know what they *are*," Jean snapped. "Why are they here! Why am *I* here?"

Felix sighed.

"Look. I didn't want it to come this far. But the only way I can do this is if you're in there and I'm out here," said Felix. "Otherwise, I know you'll slit my throat."

Jean stared at him.

"What are you talking about?" Jean whispered.

Felix took out the list again. He then read off the list, which sounded more like ingredients when read so poetically...and from a witch's book.

"Blood of Mermaid

Feet of Swine

Dust of Pine

A Pirate's Wine

Cave of Whispers

Flowers of May

A heart to love

Et tu, brute.

Pixie dust

A fairy's trust

A fire to torch,

One Blood Lust."

Felix looked up at Jean, who stared at him incredulously.

"You're one of the ingredients." Felix told her.

"Felix..." Jean begun but instantly, two people shot out of the clearing and brought her down and slammed her in the cage.

Instantly, she began screaming bloody murder, rage contorted on her face. Shaking, she saw Tock and Devin had been the ones to grab her and lock her inside while Felix looked at her with unmistakeable sadness.

"What the fuck are you doing!" Jean demanded. "What the fuck is this!"

"I know it doesn't sound like it," Devin panted as he stepped quickly back from the cage when Jean tried to take a swipe at him. "But we are really doing this for you."

"Get. Me. OUT!" Jean ordered. "Or i will cut out your stomach and force feed your own goddamn intestines. Let Me Out!"

Devin and Tock gaped at Jean, then they looked uncertainly at Felix, who looked a bit disturbed as well. Then Felix turned his attention down to the parchment.

"We already have swine feet," Felix stated, going off the list. "Pirate's wine..."

"Rum." Tock noted.

"Dust of Pine, got it from the treetops in Pixie Woods." Devin said, looking at the list as well. "That was the easiest one."

"LET ME OUT OUT OF HERE!" Jean screeched.

Devin winced.

"She won't be in there long." Felix calmed them.

Tock glanced uneasily as Jean was shaking the cage and muttered, "That's kind of what I'm afraid of."

"Blood of Mermaid," listed Felix.

"Pan has it," Devin reminded. "Jean had some on her dagger from before..." They needn't be reminded of the detailed, horror story Pan had relayed to them when Jean had jumped off a thirty foot cliff and slit the throat of an innocent mermaid. That had left them all with bad bloodied nightmares.

"What's a flower of May?"

"Lilies," Felix answered.

The two boys stared at him.

"Shut up." Felix snapped.

"What's next?" Devin asked, clearing his throat of the awkward moment. "Cave of Whispers? How do you catch a Whisper? Is a Whisper a thing?"

"It's a secret." English accent had answered this.

Felix, Devin and Tock turned to see Pan striding up to them. He was flanked by the other boys, including Jay who was jogging to keep up. Jean wrapped her fingers around the bars, her knuckles whitening.

"Peter, get me out of this fucking thing." Jean ordered.

Pan smiled at Felix, ignoring her.

"How was it?" asked Pan.

Felix glanced at Jean whose nostrils were flaring and her face was turning a deep shade of pink. Her eyes could shoot lasers if they so pleased.

Felix uneasily turned to Pan, muttering, "She...she's a bit of a um...well, she was easy to bring here anyway."

Pan nodded. He then turned to the other boys, Devin and Tock.

"Did you all get what I asked?" Pan questioned.

The two eagerly nodded and then pulled a few items out of their rucksacks.

"Good work." Pan congratulated them.

He slid his dagger out of its sheathe and approached a furious Jean-In-A-Cage. Jean's temper flared when he looked a little too suspicious, but she didn't move an inch when he leaned down.

"I admit I one day wanted to see you in a cage, but not exactly this one." Pan mused, smiling at her.

"What are you doing?" jean asked quietly.

"Giving you what you want." Pan returned seriously. "You want to know if you were my past love, I'm giving it to you. Magic can't be undone easily; there's always a price to be paid."

"So you're kiling me?" Jean questioned ironically.

Pan looked taken aback.

"No." Pan returned. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, when i saw the dagger, I just assumed the worst," Jean responded sarcastically.

Pan chuckled.

"No. But i do need something from you and it can't be willingly given." Pan told her.

Jean gave him a look and with a flash, he took her hand in his own and then slit her palm. Jean gasped, withdrawing quickly and she gave him a dangerous look as Pan stood to his feet, walking back to the boys with his dagger held out before him. Devin pulled a bowl out of his rucksack and watched, disgustedly, as Jean's blood dripped from the blade.

"What the fuck, Peter!" Jean shouted.

Pan shook his head, as though for one regretting his decision to love a hot-tempered lass like herself. However, he smiled when the potion itself became a soft shade of blue.

"Blood lust," Pan noted the ingredient added.

Felix gave him a look, saying, "Blood lust? I thought it was Blood lust, not Blood *and* Lust."

Pan chuckled saying, "It is 'blood lust'. But that's not bad thinking for pinning Jean for both."

"Fuck you." Jean called out, hearing their converation.

Pan rolled his eyes. He looked at Felix as he wiped the dagger clean with the grass and leaves on the ground, sheathing it again.

"What's left?" asked Pan.

"A heart to love...and et tu, Brute. What's an et tu brute?" asked Felix. He looked at the others, who all gave him stares.

"It's part of a play," Jean called from the sidelines.

Pan looked at her curiously.

"Shakespeare," said Jean. "Not from this land, but mine."

Pan approached her.

"What does it mean?" he asked.

"It means, 'And you, Brute'. It's not Brute. It's pronounced 'Bru-tay.'" Jean corrected Felix. "It's a ruler's response to a close friend when he stabs him with a knife."

Pan uttered quietly, "How do you know this literature?"

"I had to study it when I was in school," said Jean. "Now get me out. I helped you. Now, fucking help me."

"I can't let you out yet." Pan said.

"Why the hell not."

"Because you may very well end up killing me by the end of this."

"Why, because you let them throw me in a cage for no *fucking* reason at all?" Jean spat.

Pan sighed, saying, "Oh, there's a lot more to come. A reverse Reincarnation spell isn't simple. If you want a large magical pay off, you have to be willing to pay the ultimate price. Something you may not be willing to pay, but for your happiness, I am."

Jean stared at him, whispering, "What are you talking about?"

Pan looked at Felix, and nodded to him. Felix suddenly knocked Jay over the head, and the little one collapsed on the ground. Immediately, Jean was in fit of rage, trying to claw her way out of the cage. Felix held out his hand, and Pan placed his dagger in Felix's outstetched palm.

"A Heart to Love," Pan stated.

"Cut out your own fucking heart," Jean snapped.

Felix looked at Pan hesitantly, but the King nodded him for to continue. Jay was stabbed in the chest, then cut of a circle; Felix took out a blood red heart, handing it to Peter who dropped it in the bowl.

Jean was now shaking the bars and the sound of the slightest bend made all the boys, including Pan, look at her quickly.

"What's next." Pan demanded, attempting his best efforts to ignore Jean's furious screams.

"Pixie dust," Felix stated, "and a 'fairy's trust'."

Pan slid his hands between the material of his shirt to a hidden pocket and pulled out a vial of pixie dust. He poured half of it into the bowl wordlessly, and then he whistled.

Tinkerbell walked into the clearing, looking a little out of place. Her normal fairweather appearance had become maddened as she appeared to be a Lost Girl. She still wore her fairy costume, but that's all the remained of her. Or so thought.

"You're not doing this for anything but her, right?" Tinkerbell asked Pan carefully.

Pan nodded.

"All right."

She took a bit of her cloth, ripping it. She placed it gingerly in the bowl. When she saw Jay's dead body, she fought the need to vomit, and looked at Jean, who was sitting in the cage.

"This *is* for her, right?" Tinkerbell asked again.

"Yes," Pan said.

"A bit horrific, don't you think?" Tinkerbell asked.

"For a fairy, I imagine so." Pan returned. "Unless *you* have any bright ideas."

Tinkerbell had none to give, so she looked at all of them. She quickly ran back to the forest, the sound of her sobs was unmistakeably heard as she took off. Jean watched after Tinkerbell, knowing how much it had taken her to help. That was probably the last time she would ever deal with her or Peter Pan. Every time she did, it seemed like they were always killing someone.

"Next." Pan demanded.

Felix could only answer for the other Lost Boys looked either ready to keel over, ill; they were ready to cry (such as Devin); they were staring at Pan, uncertain if this was more terrifying than fun; or, like Tock, who was avidly watching Jean trying to push herself out of the cage.

"A fire to torch," read Felix. "Before that, we still need a Cave of Whispers...whatever that means."

"It's like I said. It's a secret." Pan said. "But it has to be a secret no one here knows."

Everyone looked at each other.

"It'll have to be one of you Lost Boys." Jean called flatly from the sidelines.

They all glanced at her.

"Peter and I know everything there is to know about each other. It cannot be any of us."

Tock seemed to take one for the team as he stepped forward, speaking into the bowl: "I want to fuck Jean."

While the bowl held no response to his secret, there was certainly a reaction from everyone involved, or more oddly enough, very little. Jean sighed.

"That's not a secret, Twat." Jean told him.

"But i never said it until now."

Pan sighed, "You never had to say it."

Tock stared at Pan, equally humiliated and terrified. Pan spared him little attention as he looked at Felix, who he could always depend on to set the score. Felix nodded, lowering to his knees. He shut his eyes, hoped for the best.

"I'm in love...with Jean." Felix admitted.

The bowl brightened pink.

Standing to his feet, Felix looked apologetically at Pan, who looked at him almost expectantly.

"I'm sorry, Pan." Felix apologized sincerely.

Pan didnt appear too surprised, after all, everyone on the island seemed to fall for Jean one way or another. However, the apple of Felix's eyes looked just as shocked as Devin or Tock or anyone else (but Peter Pan).

"What the hell, Felix!" Jean responded.

Pan turned from all of them to look at the bowl as it now turned bright purple.

"We'll deal with all of this later," Pan said distractedly. "It's ready."

Felix nodded and then he carefully walked over to Jean's cage, and slowly began opening it but just as the cage was unlocked, Jean burst out of it like a wild tiger. The first thing she did was punch Felix; he was knocked out in one go.

"Damn!" Tock exclaimed.

Jean barrelled over in fury. Tock opened his mouth to tell her something.

"Don't talk to me," Jean snarled.

She glared at Pan.

"What the *fuck* are you doing, Peter! Have you lost your fucking mind! What-What makes you think i wanted any of this...Jay...Tinkerbell! What the hell, Peter, WHAT THE HELL!"

Pan picked up the bowl, then blew.

Jean stepped back immediately, holding her hands to her face as large amounts of what looked like purple glitter flittered around her like snow...or a bunch of fucking rainbow glitter. Jean coughed, and gagged; at one point, she sneezed.

"YOU ARE..." Jean began to screech, but she stopped immediately.

Then without notice, she collapsed on the ground.


	13. Remember

The moment Jean had fainted, Pan looked at her at first with morbid curiosity, then panic surged through every fiber of his being. He quickly knelt down, taking her shoulders, trying to shake her awake.

"What happened!" Devin shouted.

"She just fell over! tsk." Tock yelled.

All the yelling and shouting obviously didn't help matters, but Pan could care less about their own worry. His concern betrayed him as he bit his lip uncertainly, wondering if he had done everything he had been told.

"Felix." Pan called.

Felix was at his side immediately, although his face betrayed a great deal concern as well and for the obvious reasons mentioned earlier. Pan took him by the sleeve, pulling him down.

"The water from the Spring on Deadman's Peak," Pan began, but Felix nodded, getting to his feet.

"I know the place." Felix said.

"Good. Go." Pan ordered.

Felix took Devin with him and they sped off to the peak to retrieve Neverland's infamous drink, although one sip of it confined the drinker to its land forever. Pan held Jean's hand, willing her to come back to him.

()()()()

Jean wasn't in her body. That much was clear.

Instead, she was in some other woman's body, but while she walked in her shoes, she was not in control of her movements. It was like being trapped in a swirling vortex of hell, and lost to the machine's movements around her...somewhat like the Matrix, except in the Matrix, they had control of their ligaments.

'Out of body experience?' Jean thought.

She watched herself (pretty much) walk to the bar, clad in some peasant's garb. When she saw her reflection briefly in a mirror of the restroom, Jean had her own mini panic attack. She was certain it had been her, but the voice coming out of her mouth was someone else's.

"What the bloody hell..." Jean whispered. She touched her face. It was a great deal of different, and definitely not hers. Aged 10 more years though, and it could have been.

Jean turned around when she heard other women coming in. Quickly, she was out of the bar, turning heads as she walked. What the fuck were people looking at? Did *they* know she didn't belong in this body. Her body stopped walking against her will, and she was magnetized towards a game of some sort...an odd alley, where she watched people play silly games with puppets, or do magic tricks.

Walking (but not by her will), Jean stood on the sidelines, watching a man play a game featuring cards.

"Follow the Lady," He said, smiling a toothy grin.

Jean watched him move the cards around and then show a card of a lady. Then he moved the cards a little while for a rather large, beefy customer who appeared quite discontent with the game. Perhaps he had played once already, and lost? Jean continued watching and she felt her own body move to her control.

Jean wondered what the hell was happening for the twentieth time today, and watched as the beefy character carefully hovered his hands over a single card, before resolving to choose the one in the middle.

"That one. Thats where she is." The man said confidently. "I know. I watched it."

The one controlling the game raised up the card, amusedly, and revealing that it was not the card, the customer immediately was in an uproar. Angrily, he shot forward to take the man's arm, but Jean caught it, throwing it back at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jean snapped...she was a bit taken aback by her own since it was a completely different accent. Being that she was English and the accent coming out with maybe Scottish, the antagonist and the strategist weren't the only people taken by surprise.

"This character here," the angry customer growled, "has been cheatin' me out of my swills. I've seen him 'round here before, the dirty gambler."

"You paid to play," Jean reminded. "You seem to be the only gambler here."

The man was ready to hit the other one.

"You've cheated one too many people, Malcom!"

Jean stopped short. Jean then quickly realized just whom she was defending. It was Peter Pan...well, not right now, it seemed. Malcolm.

"Get outta here, you stupid little thing." The man growled, ready to pummel Malcolm, referring to Jean.

Enraged, Jean looked around quickly and grabbed the first thing she saw: A shovel. She swung it back like a baseball bat and then let him have it. The man screamed in pain, getting down on his knees.

"Piss off!" Jean shouted.

When he got up to retaliate, Jean turned quickly to other male passerbys. Then she screamed. That got a lot of attention as the male cook and butcher at the nearby shops came running to see who had been the damsel in distress. Jean pointed at the angry man, and that's all the initiative it seemed to take.

The butcher and cook ran after him, yelling about hurting women and such. Jean watched after him, slightly amused. Malcolm, who had been stunned and standing on the sidelines, looked at Jean, impressed.

"I have never seen such a sight," Malcolm stated, walking towards her, glancing in the direction where the man had run.

Jean shrugged saying, "They can get a bit nasty, but you learn to deal with those types of men from time to time."

"I imagine so," said Malcolm.

Jean handed it to him. He was about twenty, her assumed age of wherever or whomever she was. He looked dashing in a way, although he obviously suffered hard times, being poor and all. Jean smiled at him; he smiled back.

"Have *you* ever played Follow the Lady." Malcolm inquired curiously.

"No, but I'm not exactly one for guessing games." Jean mused. "But i reckon *you* are."

Malcolm chuckled, saying, "I've been known to enjoy a few."

"I'm pretty sure that's understatement," said Jean, thinking about how many she had endured with Pan.

"What's your game?" asked Malcolm.

"I like a good scavenger hunt," said Jean.

Malcolm looked at her as though she may fly off the chimney, just as Peter Pan had done that night...or what had been Peter Pan...Malcom in the future...him, the peron in front of her.

Malcolm cleared his throat.

"Maybe i can interest you in a drink instead?" asked Malcolm. "The meade here can take you places."

"Places like what?" Jean laughed and then knowingly, "Places like Neverland?"

Malcolm looked as though he'd just died and gone to Heaven...or maybe Neverland. When he fell back to reality, he quickly got up and held out his hand.

"Would you humor a man and have a glass?" he asked.

"I'll humor you further and buy you one too." Jean replied.

"Oh, a woman after my own heart."

Jean smiled when he held out his arm and she took it.

()()()()

Pan stared at Jean, uncertain as to what he should be doing by now. She was breathing at least, but the rest of her was gone. He laid his head on her chest, his ear just above her heart. He waited, and was relieved to hear it beating.

The Lost Boys paced around he and Jean quickly, their hands fidgeting.

"Stop doing that!" Pan snapped impatiently.

"Doing what?" Tock asked.

"That moving." Pan retorted.

"We're scared!" Devin snapped. "Aren't you!"

"You know he is," Toodles retorted.

Pan gave Toodles an appreciative glance then looked back down at Jean.

"Come on, babe. Wake up for me." He whispered. "Please."

()()()()()

Jean was still in the damn body for some weird reason, and still didnt know why she was here or what was happening.

Was she experiencing first hand everything that happened between Pan and his past love?

Was she changing the past? Jean wouldn't ever imagine a woman of Malcolm's time mentioning anything about Neverland. Really, only *boys* visited; the fact she had been able to come was a fluke in the entire plan; even Shadow voiced that before.

Or, was Jean experiencing an incredibly lucid dream thanks to some powerful sleeping powder?

"No thanks to Pan, the dumb fuck." Jean growled unhappily.

"What was that, my dear?" asked Malcolm.

"I mean...wow, that was a stroke of dumb luck!" Jean covered up immediately.

"And it never left my sleeve," said Malcolm, holding his hand up to show her that the Lady's card had always been in there.

He was a bit of a trickster, down to the very human side of him, Jean realized.

"So, I've talked a lot about myself." Malcolm said. "You know I'm a bachelor, and I live a few miles from here. You know where I play." He indicated outside. "What do you do?"

Jean struggled with an answer. What did Pan say Rumple's mother did on a daily? Whore herself out or something...jean was sure he had spoken out of hurt. The idea of prostituting couldn't possibly appeal to anyone. Jean bit her lip, and she saw Malcolm watching her with an anticipated look.

"What?" asked Jean.

"You do that occasionally." Malcolm noted, touching his own mouth. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"What, oh, no. It doesn't." Jean returned. "Sometimes, i do it without knowing."

"It's kind of cute," stated Malcolm, smirking at her.

"Thanks." Jean said, and she found herself blushing.

Did Rumple's mother really fall for this crap? Wait, didn't *she* just blush? Apparently, Jean fell for this crap.

"Do you like it here?" asked Jean curiously.

"Like this place? It's fine," said Malcolm.

"No, I mean..." Jean chuckled. "Do you like this place you live in? Isn't there other places you might wanna go?"

"Oh well, i do have this one place...but it doesn't exist." Malcolm stated. He shook his head. "Not for me, anyway."

Jean could sense the longing in his voice. However, something was telling her not to mention Neverland or Happy Endings. So she followed her instincts and said nothing else. Malcolm suddenly looked at her.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" Malcolm offered. "We don't have to keep coming here."

Wait...'keep coming here'? Jean realized then that her body...or whatever...was shifting from one time period of a life to another. Jean quickly looked at her reflection in the ale, realizing she had lost her younger features. She might have aged a few years.

She and Malcolm had been dating for a few years?

Jean looked at him and he appeared a bit troubled.

"Are you uncomfortable?" asked Malcolm.

"Oh, no. I was just..." Jean began but that would be a hard thing to explain, for sure. "Actually, yes, we can go somewhere else."

Malcolm look relieved, even pleased. They both got off their stools. Jean took his arm and they headed out of the bar.

()()()()()

Felix and Devin came bounding back with water in a flask. Felix thrusted the container in Pan's hand the moment they came within inches of each other.

"Hold her up," ordered Pan.

Felix moved beside Jean's head; taking her shoulders, he pushed underneath them so Jean's upper half sat up at an angle. Pan poured the water gently into Jean's mouth, some of it spilling on her but it was left unnoticed as most it moved down her throat.

()()()()()

Jean woke up. But not in that sense of truly waking up.

"This is some weird Inception bull shit." Jean muttered, sitting up.

She took in her surroundings again. She was in a bedroom, that was for sure. She was a bit terrified to see just who would be coming in here, but when she saw Malcolm, Jean let out of a long sigh of relief.

"I hope I wasn't gone long." Malcolm stated.

"Not long at all." Jean mused, smiling at him.

She watched him undress, and she was a bit surprised at this. How long had they been dating? Was it a good time to have all this happen? Oh god, did she do it yet? Jean hoped to god this body knew what it was doing and she was remissed of the fact that this was (in a sense) Peter Pan...even if he wasn't.

'Try explaining that to him when you tell him you had relations with his past self', thought Jean.

Either way, the lovemaking had been...interesting. It had been the same as she had experienced before with Pan; gentle at first, rough towards the end. And Jean had been equally experienced as a partner, leaving teeth marks on his shoulders and scratches on his back. When they had finished, Jean looked at the scene with some resolve.

While Malcolm had not been completely inexperienced, Jean definitely could tell the difference. Pan had more time to better his game, but on the whole: not bad.

Then somehow the scene switched to a whole new thing and Jean breathed out a sigh of frustration. Then pain. LOTs and LOts of pain!

"What the hell is happening!" Jean screamed, and she looked down to see a midwife holding her legs, and another one waiting for what might have been a soccer ball to come out and she was the motherfucking goalie. Jean screamed again when she felt pain all over her stomach.

She was giving birth!?

"I dont care what Im supposed to get from this!" Jean shouted furiously. "SKIP IT!"

As if answering her prayers, Jean felt her mind slip and she appeared at another...god, what could it be called? Chapter of the story? Scene of a movie? If that was case, Jean was going to skip 'scene selection' and move on to 'end'. She was having just about enough.

"You're nothing but a cheat," Jean found herself saying to Malcolm. "You cheat people, you wrong them in every way."

"I do it so..."

"I don't want to hear any of your excuses. You think I wanted this?" Jean could hear herself crying, but she was completely the puppet in all of this as another voice spoke instead: "You lied to me! You said you were finding a job; you said you would stop this."

"No one will hire me," Malcolm reasoned.

"Because they know you're nothing but a scandal. I should have never...I should have just..." Jean growled, but then simply began walking away.

"Where are you going?" asked Malcolm, his face full of worry and concern.

"I'm going for a drink.''

"But Rumple..."

"I don't care about Rumple." Jean retorted. "He's *your* son. He'll grow up with something worse than having no father: YOU!" She angrily closed the door.

Jean stopped in her tracks, now becoming the master of her own will. Dismay, despair and shock ran through her. Is this what she had been like in her past life? Had she honestly just left her husband and son for a *drink*? Jean stared at the house out of which she had stormed, and looked at it incredulously.

That's why Pan had been left alone with Rumple. He had felt helpless when the stranger had been ready to pummel him without a doubt, but Jean had intervened. And he had been ready to call off the date until Jean had intervened. If Jean had stayed, would that have meant that Pan might not have abandoned Rumple? In the course of a time, Jean recognized that what Pan needed was Jean.

In his time of knowing he would need the heart of the truest believer and didnt know what to do, he had sought her out...not by presence, but by dreams. Jean and Pan had not known they were Malcolm and Evanna. At least not mindfully. But their hearts had found each other again.

Pan needed Jean with him. And Jean was irrevocably meant to fall in love with him, just as Jean had found herself falling in love with Malcolm in such a short matter of time.

Jean felt herself float away, but this time, she wanted to stay. She had to tell Malcolm the truth, and tell Rumple that he didn't have to be alone. Jean had to, She simply must. Suddenly, she was ripped from whatever that world had been and never would be.

()()()

Jean coughed up the Never-water. As if on cue, the Lost Boys, even Pan, stepped away from her. They were expecting an uproar, maybe even a forest fire, but Jean recovered.

She was unnaturally calm.

She looked at her hands, recognizing them to be her own. Jean looked up at Pan, who stared at her with his young eyes. Jean could see him. But she also saw Malcolm. Intense emotions ran through her body; Pain, anguish, sadness regret...but something else swam in her blood as well: Love. A great deal of it too.

Centuries of it.

"Jean."

Jean looked at Pan.

"I remember everything." Jean whispered, her eyes tearing up. "I-I-I remember you...I..."

Pan stared at her, uncertain still what he had to do. So he did what his heart suggested and that was to hold her. In the instant he did, Jean fell apart in his arms, and she became a broken, fragile Lost Girl all over again.


	14. All of Me

A/n: warning: there's some lovey stuff here but under the circumstances, I thought it was necessary. Ok. Warning over. Enjoy!

(())(())())

A day had passed since Jean's return back to her own body. Pan had listened on the edge of his seat to every word of Jean's tale. From her interaction with Malcolm, to the involuntary things Jean had been forced to say and do, and to the acts that she had moments of free will. He saw her smile when she recollected the way she had met him, and then cried when she recalled how she had left Malcolm.

By the end of it all, Jean was a wreck, her face was red and soaken wet from tears. Her body shook from not the experience, but from all the memories that were forced into her skull in a moment's time.

Pan watched her, though, with new eyes. Or maybe old ones. He saw Jean in a different light, perhaps not in a bad one though. He felt closer to her, knowing for certain they had shared a life together, a love too. The fact they found each other...again, through dreams (as Jean had figured it out before him) had overwhelmed him too.

Pan encouraged Jean to rest, and they would talk about it another time when she had time to sleep and recover. Before he had left, Jean took his wrist.

Pan turned to her, sitting back down on the edge of the bed when she didn't let him go.

"Peter." She sobbed quietly. "I'm sorry for abandoning you. Im so...so sorry."

Pan looked at her, knowing that expression himself. That torn look.

"We can talk about this later," Pan told her again. He took her hand in his. "Right now, you need to rest. Could you do that for me?"

Jean nodded, rubbing away her dried and fresh tears.

He stood to leave.

"Peter."

Pan looked at her.

"Do...do you still love me?" Jean whispered.

Pan said softly, "I never stopped."

He opened the hatch, and shuffled down, closing it a second later. He heard her continue to cry, and he shook his head. He met the Lost Boys just outside the treehouse, their faces stricken with worry.

"She'll be fine," Pan said, but he didn't sound too hot himself. "Go back to camp."

The boys reluctantly followed suit.

"Not you, Felix." Pan stated sternly. As Felix remained behind, Pan said, "We still need to have a discussion."

"Of course," said Felix, his voice and face all rid of emotion.

Pan walked off, with Felix walking just beside him. Not a word was said, but the tension was as thick as a brick wall. Not even a knife could cut through that. The edge of the forest came to a halt as Pan led Felix to the ocean. It was an odd place to have such a serious conversation; the breeze kissed the ocean, and the rippling tides returned the soft summer's feeling.

Pan sat down on a boulder, glancing down to see Jean's unfinished map, the map of the game that thanks to rum had not been enacted on the night it had been planned.

He took out a dull set of pipes, starting to notch at it with his dagger.

"Sit down." Pan told him flatly.

Felix obeyed, sitting beside him. Some silence passed.

"When were you planning on telling me?" Pan questioned.

"Telling you what?" asked Felix.

Pan sighed, "You and I have known each quite some time. It'd be in your best interest not to play dumb. You said you're in love with her."

"Yes. I am." Felix muttered. "But i didn't realize it until last night."

"That's convenient," Pan muttered. He looked at him straight in the eye. "What made that happen?"

"Rum?" Felix suggested.

"Seems as a good an excuse as any," Pan grumbled.

Another long silenced passed.

"What are your intentions from here on out?" Pan inquired. "You know how I feel about other boys trespassing on my territory. You're also a hard loyal Lost Boy to find; hard to replace...So frankly, I'm at a loss as to what to do with you."

He gave him a hard look.

"What do *you* think I should do?" Pan inquired.

Felix shrugged saying, "Whatever you wish."

"Dangerous answer," Pan reflected.

"Its the only answer," said Felix.

Pan sized him up, watching him plainly. Felix had done everything Pan ever asked and when he needed something important accomplished, Felix was the one he could go to without worry. Felix also loved Jean...and at this point in time, Pan had no intention of giving her up. Even if in her past life, she had abandoned him.

"What do you think should happen?" Pan asked. "You've not really done anything that Ive been made aware of. Death seems a little too dramatic, even to me."

Felix shrugged again, saying, "Would it matter if i said that my loyalty to you means more to me than what i ever could feel for her?"

Pan made a look as though he was impressed with not only Felix's answer, but the whole subject matter combined. That certainly did make a difference.

"Are you really that loyal?" Pan asked. "You're telling me I have nothing to worry about? I keep hearing that from Jock...Devin...lately, these days, Tock..." he sighed mockingly, "But for some reaon, I don't believe them. Why should I believe you?"

"Because unlike them, I will not betray you," Felix answered strongly. "Because unlike Jean, I will not abandon you."

"*Watch what you say about her*." Pan snarled.

Pan took a moment to put his feelings back in order, removing himself emotionally from the situation. He had to think about this clearly. For a moment, he glanced at Felix then his concentration subsided to the map drawn below his feet. Jean and her little buddy, the deceased Jay, had worked out the whole island in the sand, where the boys would go from station to station. It appeared to be an obstacle course.

"I won't kill you." Pan decided. "You're too valuable for that kind of thing."

"Thanks for that," Felix returned.

"But cross me just once," Pan challenged, stepping close to Felix and looking up at him; even with the height difference, Pan still appeared most intimidating. "And you'll forever wish I had."

Felix watched Pan begin to leave.

"Is she alright?"

Pan turned around, looking at Felix incredulously. However, he changed his mind and answered Felix: "She will be."

Pan walked back to the treehouse, his mind muddled with racing thoughts. He approached the treehouse where he had left Jean, and walked inside, up the ladder, and opened the hatch. Not really surprised to see that Jean was in bed on her back.

But to his satisfaction, at least, she was asleep.

Pan undressed, deciding that what he needed most at the moment was to be next to her. As he moved into the bed, it shifted with his weight. Being the light sleeper that she was, Jean stirred, her eyes fluttering open; they were the usual brown, but blood shot.

Pan smiled when she did. She moved closer to him. Pan felt the need to kiss her, becoming magnetized to her like he had felt the day he'd seen her in his dreams, in Neverland, and like the day he met her in the park. He was drawn to her.

And she, to him.

Now, at least, they both knew why.

Jean mouthed the words, 'I love you'. Pan returned in the same way, 'I love you too, babe'. Jean smiled again, and she moved even closer. Their bodies were heating up, and Pan could feel a deep part of him wanting Jean all over again. He felt nervous for some reason. And she did too.

It was like making love for the first time all over again. Sure, they weren't different people. Not entirely. But there was a new history between them. Rumple's mother and father back together again...who knew that sort of thing ever happened!

"Are you sure?" Jean asked quietly.

"Well, we've done it before," Pan reminded.

"No, I mean...Are you sure you love me?" she asked. "With everything else that's happened...with us...and the past us."

Pan's answer didn't come out in as many words, or any words for that matter. Instead, he conveyed it through a simple long kiss that made Jean blush. When the kiss naturally ended, Jean looked at him with a whole new light, knowing she had loved Pan before he was Pan.

Jean sat up, pulling her dress above her head and tossing it to the ground. Pan watched her, and he smirked when she wiggled back under the covers. He kissed her shoulder first, then her neck, leading all the way up to her mouth. She met him halfway, and he closed the rest of the distance between not only their lips, but their bodies as well.

She was pure heat. And all his. The desire had quickened things from a spark to a flame. The moment they touched, it was like neither of them could get enough in time. Jean began pulling off her panties, but Pan smacked her hands away and just ripped them off himself while they were madly kissing with amazing passion and ferocity.

She moaned quietly when he spread her legs apart, placing him between them. Pan touched her heated sex, his fingers feeling how ready and wet she was. Jean lifted her hips to him when he entered one of his fingers inside her pussy.

Pan didn't need to be further convinced when her hips rolled against his hand as he fingered her, and her mouth enticed him with a whimper and a moan from her throat.

He moved his hands behind her back, just along the sides of her breasts. Perky, firm, and her nipples poked out, hard with her arousal. She made a soft, whimper and Pan felt her wiggling underneathe him as he touched the tip of cock against her wet entrance.

"I love you, Jean. More than you could ever know." Pan uttered quietly. And that said, he thrusted into her slowly, and deep, all of him.

Jean responded to him in every way possible. It was as though they were making love on a new heightened level. The way it felt long ago, and the way it felt now were two different ways combined into one. Jean was on high energy and alert, but ultimately her defenses were down, and so were Pan's. They relished each other's moans differently than before.

When pleasure had overtaken even the smallest parts of their beings, the two had an enormous, powerful release and they muffled their sounds with a kiss. Instead of rolling off her, Pan remained where he was, locked in her light embrace as he laid his head on her valley between her breasts, hearing her rapid, strong heartbeat.

They were breathless, panting from energy spent, but satisfied. Pan felt her walls tighten around him, and Pan pulled out of her; he smirked when he heard Jean involuntarily moan. He propped himself up, kissing her forehead, then kissing her on the lips. She returned it, and he lied down beside her on his back.

Jean beamed when he moved closer to her. She did the same. His arms wrapped protectively around her; Jean rested her head in the crook of his neck, her leg placed between his.

"We still have to figure out where to put Jay's body," Jean mumbled.

Pan sighed, "This is the type of conversation I always enjoy having with you afterwards. Jean."

She looked up at him, expecting some sarcastic or tired expression but was pleased to see him smiling at her.

"You see, if we had *this*," Pan noted her dark sense of humor, "we wouldn't have had any problems."

Jean giggled.


	15. Jealousy and Cake

()()()

Jean stayed in bed only a few more hours to get another cat nap, then after, she was roaming around the jungle in no time. Her first stop was the Echo Cave, where she mulled over life's new events, and the old ones too.

Sitting in the cave, enjoying the silence, Jean thought about everything.

Her past self, Her current self. All in one. Jean had not seen her life turning out this way at all, but now that it had happened, she had to come to terms with what she had done in the past, even if some of it had not been her own willful doing...regardless, her past self still was held accountable. Jean frowned; was there a way to find retribution over her past mistakes.

Jean lied down on the cold marble.

She accepted herself, even if she despised it completely right now. Abandonment. How horrible; and this came from someone who murdered her own parents...well, foster parents.

Now, she was just full of memories. Memories she never had until now. Memories of talking to Malcolm about silly nothings, and then a subtle argument the next day about legalities and honor, two things that Jean could care less about right now. Back then, she imagined she held something of an honor code, like Tinkerbell. Her reincarnated self held no such things to heart.

Jean sat up.

How did she get reincarnated? Did her past self die? Did she ask the Shadow to make *her* forever young? If she did, she may have tried to stay in Neverland as well, but that hardly seemed the case.

Jean frowned. Maybe someone reincarnated her. But who would have done that?

Pan didnt even know Jean was his past love until a few nights ago, so that could not have been him...so someone else giving her a second chance was not possible.

Jean resolved it all to Fate. It seemed the only possible answer.

Go on from here, move on, Jean felt. Take the past with a grain of salt. After all, she was still Jean, who planned games on the nightly. She was still Jean, who carelessly jumped off cliffs for the thrill of being caught in a mermaids' trap; still the same girl who called Pan on his shit.

Jean sighed. She could be both of them. Pan after all was both Malcolm and Peter Pan. She could be both Evanna and Jean. It would take some time adjusting to her new outlook on things...really, she reasoned, she was now an adult in a child's body, just like Pan.

Maybe that's what made this whole thing really weird.

Jean stood to her feet, walking out of the Cave. She fumbled with her thoughts when she ran right into someone. Surprised, she looked up quickly and saw Felix, looking torn and yet attempting to seem just fine.

Jean could see through his facade.

"What's wrong?" Jean asked gently.

"You're needed back in camp," Felix said flatly. Without another word, he turned and walked off.

Jean looked after him, then she followed suit.

"He talked to you, didn't he?" Jean said knowingly.

"Yes." Felix answered unhappily. "He did."

"And you're not dead, so I guess he liked what you had to say?" suggested Jean optimistically.

"Sure," said Felix monotonously.

Jean rolled her eyes, jogging ahead so she stopped in front of him. He began to move around her but she stood in his way. Felix looked at her with a great deal of annoyance and exhaustion.

"You're acting different." Jean pointed out. "What's going on?"

Knowing Jean as well as he did, Felix didn't even try to dodge the question. She was like the master interrogator around this island, and her eyes just pierced through his like an arrow.

Resigning to the fact that Jean would not let him go until he admitted whatever he had to say, Felix leaned against his club.

"I told him my loyalty to him meant more to me than you did." Felix said.

Jean raised her eyebrows at him, then she stepped back a moment in thought.

"Did you mean it?"

"Jean..."

"It's a simple 'yes' or 'no' question, dear," Jean retorted coolly.

"Yes..." said Felix slowly. "I meant it." He approached her, a stern look dead set in his eyes. "You mean a great deal to me, Jean. More than you will ever really understand. But Pan took me in...and..."

"You needn't explain yourself," Jean told him, holding up a hand to silence him. "You don't owe me an explanation."

Felix blinked.

"I think Peter is very lucky to have a loyal follower like you, Felix. Sometimes, I don't think he appreciates that enough."

Felix said coolly, "And I think Pan is unlucky to have someone like you."

Jean's eyes glinted dangerously.

"Excuse me?" Jean said quietly. "Mind running that by me again?"

"I don't mind at all." Felix responded calmly. "You left him, Jean. When he needed you most."

"I had no control over that," Jean said with forced calm.

"You've left him once already," said Felix. "Your loyalty is questionable in my opinion. Pan can't see it, because he's blinded by his love for you, but I am not."

Jean chuckled darkly, saying, "This coming from someone who claims to love me."

"I do love you," said Felix. "But not that part that left Pan."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong, Kitkat," Jean drawled, stepping up to him. She was shorter than him, but her eyes cast him into shadows. "To love someone, you have to accept all of them, their good and the bad. What do you know about love, lost boy?"

Felix frowned.

"You're in love with the *idea* of me," said Jean quietly. "But you don't love *me*. I have cheated, stolen, and lied to people. I've even killed a few. Could you love that part of me, Felix, hm? And even with all this loyalty, what are you in the end, huh? A boy, unloved, unhappy, and lost."

Jean smiled at him, her wickedness gone and now replaced with a look of resignation, exhaustion, and compassion.

"You called me 'mother' a few times," she uttered softly. "You and I always have taken care of each other. How is knowing what I had done centuries ago make any difference?"

Felix looked at her incredulously.

"You still abandoned him." Felix growled.

"I did," Jean admitted. "I have to accept that. But i can assure you, it will never happen again."

She touched Felix's hand, her fingers on the back of it, caressing like a mother to a son. She placed the other on his face, and the gentleness of it pulled Felix back to her.

"I'm sorry you were forced through all of this, Felix," Jean cooed softly. "I'm sorry you ever had to feel this way. But the worst part is over...we can be a family again. You, me, Peter, and the other boys."

Felix looked down at Jean, as though trying to figure out her intentions but when she looked back at him, all he could see was love, infinite amounts of it...a mother's love and understanding.

"You can't love me as a lover," Jean whispered. "But you can still do so as a son."

Felix nodded.

Jean smiled, watching Felix almost revert back to a small child who was angry at the world and had caught his mom in a terrible lie. Jean had persuaded him back to her, and they walked back to camp.

Nightfall had come. Drums were beaten, the whooping and hollering had returned to normal. There was a large feast spread around the camp, from venison to trout, from bread to rice.

As if feeling her presence, Pan glanced to the edge of the campsite, watching Jean and Felix arrive together, talking in low voices. Before they departed, Jean smiled at Felix, who offered her a grin out of effort, and they hugged briefly.

Pan felt his blood boil, watching Jean walk towards him. She looked at him curiously, seeing the expression on his face.

"Don't look at me like that," Jean mewed. "I was just talking to him. We have an understanding."

"Do you?" Pan inquired firmly.

Jean gave him a look, saying slowly, "Yes. We do...Are you jealous?"

"I don't know," Pan retorted coldly. "Should i be?"

Jean gave him another look. She rolled her eyes, taking her leave from him to go and find some dinner. Pan watched her all the while, also watching Felix, who appeared down in the dumps but none too worse for the wear. Jean came back to Pan with a plate of meat and rice. She offered it to him.

"I'm not hungry."

"I beg to differ," Jean mused. "You're acting like a girl who hasn't eaten in a few hours."

Pan glared at her.

"So, you're not hungry," Jean presumed coolly. She placed the plate aside on the boulder on which the two sat, brushing her hands together then sat beside him. "What's wrong, grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy."

"You lie." Jean scoffed.

Pan looked at her pointedly.

"Is there something you have to tell me?" he questioned.

"Is there something *you* have to tell *me*?" Jean retorted. "You're pissed off, I know it. So what's wrong?"

Pan sneered, "You like Felix, don't you?"

Jean's entire affect appeared flat.

"Seriously?" Jean muttered. "I like Felix but not in the way you think. Anyway, he told me you and him had an understanding as well."

"That, we do."

"So why you are snapping at me?" Jean asked.

Pan frowned, turning from her to watch the other boys dance and jump all over the place. Jean bit her lip, thinking of how to assuage these feelings of his, then she had an idea. She stood up; in doing so, Pan looked at her. She then moved in front of him; he straightened his back when she came closer.

Slowly, but with a calculating grace, Jean leaned into him and ever so lightly, she kissed him. It didn't last long, but it was soft and gentle enough where it left her wanting more, and so it would have done the same to him.

She wasn't disappointed.

Pan still appeared vexed by the entire thing with Felix, but his curiosity outweighed whatever tinge of jealousy he possessed as Jean leaned in again, kissing Pan.

Her balanced equalized with her feet on the floor and her hands on his thighs, Jean parted her lips for Pan to deepen this slow, hypnotic kiss. Pan took her invitation, doing one better when he caressed her face with one of his hands, then moving further back to lace his fingers through her hair. Jean broke this kiss momentarily, placing a knee on the boulder, between his legs, moving forward enough that Pan was now on his back.

She kissed him again, the same slow, soft touch. The material of their clothes brushed together as the kiss began moving in the direction of passionate, slow snogging.

The drums in the background, beating wildly; the flames licking at the air; the Lost Boys dancing, screaming and whooping around the campfire like a bunch of wild children they were.

And in the middle of it all were Jean and Pan kissing with enough passion to ignite a second fire; hands moving over one another's body; hers, around his green tunic, and once, her hand moved below to rub along the seam of his trousers, feeling just how much he wanted her.

Pan touched her shoulders, moving his hands down to the small of her back in the lightest touch of his fingertips making Jean shudder; he groped her butt, then 'walked' his fingers to the sides of her thighs so he could lift her dress and feel her naked flesh...he was pleasantly surprised to notice she wasnt wearing any underwear.

Clever minx, this one.

Jean felt his smirk in their make-out, and she didnt even acknowledge it; which only made Pan want her more. She knew it would make him crave her.

Maybe the minx was too clever.

Pan sat up suddenly to Jean's surprise. He tapped the back of her thighs and the likeness of thinking seemed too impeccable as Jean jumped slightly; at that time frame, Pan pulled her closer so she now straddled him with her knees on the rock, her bare feet dangling.

She snaked her arms around him, her hands resting on the nape of his neck while they continued to kiss, while Pan's own rested on Jean's thighs, his thumbs stroking in circles.

"Still jealous?" Jean whispered.

"What if i am?" Pan drawled.

"Then you're an ignorant git, that's what." Jean returned sweetly with a smile.

"It's amazing how you can turn an insult into a compliment," Pan replied sarcastically.

"Is it?" Jean returned playfully. "I thought i had some talent."

"It's half a talent," Pan returned.

"Well, it's more than you have." Jean pointed out.

Pan was about to give his own comeback but Jean kissed him again.

"HEY!"

"GET OFF ME!"

Pan and Jean turned their heads to see Toodles, Nibs, and Slightly tackling each other and underneath them was Tock, who was apparently trying to eat the last bit of chocolate marble cake. He had it in his hand and his tongue was out as far as it could go; the other three children had snatched his feet, while Slightly was crawling on Tock's back as if he was a tree.

"GET OFF! IT'S MINE!" Tock cried.

"I saw it first!" Nibs, always the hungry one, howled.

"No, I DID!" Toodles shouted.

"I just want a taste!" Slightly yelled.

"Its MINe!" screamed Tock.

Jean looked at Pan, who rolled his eyes. He held up his hands and Jean slid off him and walked over to the boys while Pan watched her intervene like the mother she was.

"Get off each other!" Jean ordered. "Get off him."

Toodles and Nibs backed off immediately, watching from the sidelines as Jean still dealt with Slightly, who was raking his fingernails down Tock's back; the latter was screaming in pain, and Slightly appeared pissed off.

"GIVE IT TO ME!" shouted Slightly angrily. "It's my cake! I found it!"

"It' miiiiiine!" cried Tock, tears starting to fall.

Jean couldn't believe this spectacle.

"Get off him, Slightly." Jean demanded. When the latter didnt move, Jean growled. She took him by his collar, pulling him off with amazing strength and pushed him to the ground.

Slightly landed with an 'ooff' and he stood up, vehemently swearing.

"Thats *my* cake," Slightly snarled. "Tock just took it."

"Tock get up," Jean said sternly.

Tock, who was still having a bitch fit, stood up and brushed himself off, holding onto this sliver of a cake. Slightly began to march over and demand his possessions, but Jean stood in between the two.

"Enough." Jean said.

Slightly jumped to attack Tock, but Jean took him by the shoulders and practically screamed, "I SAID ENOUGH ALREADY!"

The entire camp stared at Jean.

Slightly looked at her, quite upset.

"He took it from me," Slightly said unhappily. "i found it, and he's saying it is his."

"Finders Keepers," Tock snickered and then he ate that piece of cake all in one bite, licking his fingers.

Slightly howled in fury, jumping on Tock with the ferocity of a bear; the latter hit the ground and he started furiously crying about some chipped tooth or broken jaw. Jean threw her hands up in the air, and Pan thought she was ready to give up but then she impressed him.

"you all want to kill each other, then kill each other!" Jean growled.

Surprising him, Pan watched Jean walk over to him and then took out his dagger from his belt, then hers as well; she knocked Slightly off Tock, and threw down the weapons in front of the boys.

"If you're so head strong about causing each other pain over a piece of dessert, then do it the right way. Kill each other." Jean told them coldly. She pointed to the daggers: "The victor wins this."

Pan watched her hold out her hand; within a couple of minutes, a large marble cake appeared there and she placed it on a rock between the two angry boys. Pan half-smiled at her quick use of magic; she was getting a lot better at it.

"You want us to..." Slightly began.

"DIIIIIIIIIE!" Tock shouted madly, and he snatched up Pan's dagger then sprinted towards Slightly.

"You have to stop this," Devin urged, taking Jean by her arm. "This is madness."

Jean looked at him then at Pan, who seemed to approve.

She didn't stop the fight.


	16. King VS Queen

()()()()

"Kill him!"

"Stab him!"

"Ooh! Watch it, that was close!"

"Can i have some cake when this is over?" Nibs asked quietly.

The crowd surrounded Tock and Slightly, who were swiping at one another; Jean watched them with her arms crossed while Pan looked happy, maliciously watching the boys go at each other's throats. Finally after Slightly dodged again and again from Tock's blows, Tock looked a great deal annoyed.

"Come on, you idiot! How am I supposed to win if you won't let me kill you?" Tock growled as he took another stab towards Slightly, who fell to the ground, terrified.

When Slightly started crawling, Tock went after him. Slightly had found Jean to be the best hiding place and he crouched behind her.

Tock, who was so immersed in the idea of killing someone, took a running start...the dagger aimed at Jean.

Pan stood up instinctively and on the defense (as did Felix), but Jean cut him to the quick; She snatched Tock's hand that held the dagger ominously aimed at her own throat, and when the boy saw *just* who he attempted to kill, he stared at her...terrified.

"Come on, then." Jean mused. "You want to really fight someone, huh?"

She threw his arm to his side. Jean looked down at Slightly, who shook with fear.

She knelt down, taking her own dagger, and slowly stood to her feet; the air around her was as intimidating as her stare.

The dagger twirled in her hand and Jean approached Tock.

The crowd became quiet, and the boys glanced at Pan as if wondering whether or not he was going to let this happen.

Pan sat down; he and Jean met eye contact, and what concern he held in his eyes left as he smirked at her.

Jean could take care of herself.

Tock stared at Jean. He stood with Pan's dagger held loosely in his hand.

He was going to fight the Queen. If that was not terrifying enough, Jock had a bit of an undying lust for her...his mind went to all sorts of scenarios that could derive from his victory.

Unfortunately, for him, those thoughts proved a little distracting and Jean's first attack nailed him a sharp cut on his shoulder. Tock whimpered in pain, holding his shoulder. He looked at it in surprise, his pride damaged when he saw blood.

"That hurt!" Tock snapped.

Jean snickered, "Well, it's certainly not supposed to be feel good."

Tock held his fighting stance.

"Atta boy," Jean encouraged; she started circling him while Tock stood in his place, watching her carefully.

"Show me what you've got, lost boy." Jean taunted. "What can you really do from over there?"

She let out an antagonizing giggle.

Tock ran at her, and Jean ducked.

He ran into a tree. The boys around them, including Pan, laughed.

Jean made a little dance, and the boys continued to laugh.

Tock appeared mortified and told them all to shut up. It only riled the crowd further.

Tock glared at Jean.

"It's all fun and games, tsk, til someone gets hurt," Tock snarled.

He moved left and Jean moved to the right, but just as she did, Tock changed it on her and with quick snap of his wrist, he thrashed the dagger towards her. Jean inhaled sharply, stumbling back, her hand moving quickly to her face.

The crowd silenced. Pan watched Jean look at Tock with the angriest stare he had ever seen, and his eyes moved to the gash along her jaw. It was an angry wound. Jean rubbed the fresh blood with the back of her hand; seeing the fine crimson on her flesh, she gave Tock one of those evil grins.

It sent chills down Pan's back, and he grinned when Jean made a threat to move towards Tock; the latter flinched.

"Come on, sweetie." Jean cooed. "Is that all you got?"

Tock looked at her, incredulous.

"I..." Tock began. "I don't really want the cake anymore."

"The fact you still think this is about cake is so adorable," Jean mused.

"It...it isn't?" Tock stuttered.

"Nope," Jean sang. "This is a game. A nice little spar between two people."

"I don't want to fight you though," Tock whimpered.

"I'm just a girl," Jean reminded. "If you can't beat me, are you really a boy at all?"

This pushed Tock's buttons, apparently, for he screamed in rage and ran at Jean. She laughed wickedly, and this time as he came towards her, Jean stabbed him in the thigh. Tock howled in pain, his fits of rage turning into fits of agony as he fell onto his side, holding his leg.

"Jesus!" Devin exclaimed, stepping back from where Tock had fallen.

"IT HURTS!" Tock shouted, rolling on his back. "IT HURTS!"

"Game isn't over!" Jean reminded.

"Someone tag me!" Tock pleaded. "Please for the love of god!"

Pan stepped forward, rolling up his sleeves. Jean questioned him with a look of her own, and then he answered her when Pan picked up his own dagger from Tock's side. He twirled it in his hand just like Jean, who watched him.

"Tag." Pan drawled, smirking at her.

"You're really going to do this?" Jean asked smoothly.

"Apparently." Pan returned in the same, cool tone.

Nibs leaned into Devin and whispered, "This is going to be interesting."

"Shut up," Devin hissed. "We'll be lucky if we don't become orphans again."

Felix chuckled at that.

Jean and Pan. The King and Queen of Neverland. They circled each other, sizing one another up.

"You know, I just realized I've never really sparred with a girl before." Pan noted aloud, looking at her pointedly.

"I could say the same," Jean retaliated.

Pan gave her a look, saying, "Seriously, that's the best you could come up with?"

"Got a reaction out of you, didn't I?" Jean remarked pointedly, winking at him.

They squared off. Then, without notice, Jean took a jab at him. Pan hopped back, avoiding her swipe just barely.

"En guarde," Jean said afterwards.

"Wow, thanks for the warning," Pan said sarcastically.

"You're welcome."

Pan moved towards her, then Jean stepped back; her eyes narrowed at him, as if trying to figure out his next move. In a blink of an eye, he vanished. Knowing him too well, however, Jean immediately took a big leap away and when she turned back, she saw Pan smirking at her.

"I didn't know we could use magic," Jean pondered aloud.

"Use whatever you like." Pan told her. "Either way, I'm winning. Peter Pan never fails."

"Is that right?" Jean muttered.

She turned on her back and with her weight balanced enough, she sprung to her feet like a little ninja.

Pan lifted his eyebrows, impressed. The feeling wore off when she lunged for him. He snatched her wrist, pulling her towards him, throwing Jean off balance; he bent her arm so she was forced to turn.

Pan had her back against his chest, her arm twisted behind her while his dagger was held to her throat, the blade a nick away from slitting her precious neck. Jean tilted her head back and saw in her peripheral vision that he was smirking...not that she needed to see it. She practically could hear it.

"Get out of this." Pan told her.

"What?"

"Get out of it." Pan said. "Escape."

"How the hell...mm..." Jean bit her lip when he slowly slid the blade down the line of her throat, her skin prickled at the feeling.

"Figure it out." Pan whispered.

Jean had only one thought come to mind. She brought her leg back and kicked him where it hurt. Pan recoiled and Jean jumped out of his grip. She turned to see him knelt down, cringing.

"Is it over?" asked Nibs.

"Who won?" asked Slightly.

"I think Jean..." Devin muttered.

Felix started towards Pan, who was still on the ground.

Jean took her finger and dipped in the marble cake, then placed it in her mouth, tasting it. It definitely would have been worth killing Tock, but not Pan. Too dry.

She glanced to see Felix holding out his hand and Pan took it; Felix hoisted him back up.

Jean sauntered over.

"Sorry 'bout that," Jean apologized.

Pan winced, saying none too nicely, "Are you!"

"Honestly, yes. I didn't want to." Jean explained, "But you kinda forced my hand."

Felix offered to get him some water or something, but Pan shook his head and said for the party to continue although not in his most celebratory voice ever. He leaned against a tree, his head laid back on it as he took a moment. Jean smiled at him.

Pan looked down at her, scowling.

"What are you smiling about?" He questioned.

Jean shrugged saying, "You fight very well."

"I know."

"I dont know about you, but i thought it was hot when you put that dagger to my throat." Jean uttered quietly, closing the gap between them. Her eyes flickered with something different that Pan was not usually accustomed to seeing.

The pain was dying away and Pan looked at her curiously.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"I dont know yet," Jean told him.

Mysteriously, she smiled, then walked back to her seat on the rock and shared the marble cake with the Lost Boys. Pan sighed deeply; that girl would be the death of him.


	17. Family Reunion

A/N: A little warning, I am changing up the timeline so in a way, this has become a bit of an AU fanfic especially since pan has a true love, so yeah. If i burst bubbles, oh well. I hope you're still enjoying the story. Leave a review if you like :) I'm quite curious what you all think.

()()()()()

Jean watched Pan get ready to leave. When he felt her eyes on him, Pan met them as he tied the familiar multicolored cloak around his chest. He was also dressed in different clothes so as not to make him stand out too much from the rest of the crowd.

It was interesting to see Pan and Jean never break eye contact throughout, only until Pan strapped his belt around his hip which always carried his pipes and dagger. Jean stood up from the bed, walking around it to meet him.

"Can I come?" Jean asked.

Pan looked at her curiously.

"Do you want to?" Pan asked.

"I've never been to Hamelin," Jean said.

Pan said smoothly, "You drank from the waters of Neverland. You cant leave the island."

"Am I really trying to escape Neverland if I'm going to be with you the entire time?" Jean countered, holding out her hands as though waiting for another excuse she could shoot down with her fascinating logic.

"Your boys always want a mother they don't have," Jean added. "You'd probably get more to come with you with me by your side."

"Look at you," Pan drawled, impressed. She could say the right thing to convince him of anything, and he gave it a few seconds' thought before he decided she would come with him to get more friends.

"You'll have to wear something more subtle than that," Pan told her, pointing to her dark green pretty dress.

Jean tilted her head curiously. He held his hand up to his mouth as if he would blow her a kiss and when he exhaled, Jean's body began glowing and faded into a knee-length dark blue dress with a regal, but slightly peasant feel to it. Even as a workaday maid, Jean appeared too beautiful.

Her hair, normally long and dropping down to her back by now, was pulled up in a very high pony tail; her locks dropped down just above her shoulders, and through them webbed a vine of flowers.

Jean smiled sweetly at Pan.

"When we get there, you stay close to me." Pan told her sternly, his voice lower than usual. "Don't leave my sight."

"Not a problem." Jean promised.

They kissed briefly, though Pan let it go on a little longer, unable to help himself sometimes. She was too much mischief and eccentricity to dress in such an innocent-looking attire, and maybe that's what was driving him nuts.

Jean giggled when he grabbed her ass.

"Peter." Jean reminded him.

"Oh, right." Pan muttered.

He cleared his throat, then she and Pan climbed up the to the top of the treehouse.

He reached inside his shirt, where around his neck he wore a chain which held a small vial of pixie dust. He opened the stopper, pouring only a teaspoon size in his hand. He placed the closed vial back under his shirt. Jean smiled when he threw the dust in the air and it showered him and Jean.

"Remember," Pan told her.

"Think lovely thoughts." Jean recalled softly.

Pan couldn't help smile at her as he watched Jean close her eyes and they started flying. He held out his hand; she took it, their fingers interlacing together. He guided her off the island.

Jean looked below them, seeing Neverland was a great deal smaller when looking at it from the sky. She watched Pan, who steered them towards the sky, towards the stars that hung farther out. Suddenly, they were thrown out of the world and Jean held onto Pan's hand tighter, closing her eyes as their bodies were seemingly tossed from one swirling pressure vortex to another.

They were jumping realms.

Jean felt her chest tighten and just as she thought she might have lost her ability to breathe, she and Pan were thrown into a different world and onto its land, although...not as different. Jean noticed there were trees about, hills, grass.

At first she wondered if they ever left.

Pan stood up, brushing himself off. He helped Jean to her feet, smiling when she looked confused.

"Hamelin is...a forest?"

"No. It's a forest near Hamelin." Pan explain ed.

"What realm is this?" Jean inquired.

"The Enchanted Forest." Pan answered.

He put his arm around her waist, giving her the cue to walk onward. Jean was busy taking in her surroundings. Being Jean, she didn't recognize anything. As Evanna, she knew the enchanted forest, although not this area. The Enchanted Forest, like Neverland, could stretch for miles, eons. It'd take a magical portal or some bean to get anywhere.

"Why do you like this place?" asked Jean.

"I've only been here twice." Pan told her. "Once to find boys my age, and well ...the second time, I went looking for you."

Jean sent him a smile.

"You thought I was in Hamelin?" Jean asked.

Pan shrugged, saying honestly, "I didn't know where you were. Dreams aren't really specific. You should know that." He hinted at the fact that Jean, too, had dreamt of him. While she did know Peter Pan lived in Neverland, Jean had never thought it (or him) to be real.

She'd come a long way since then.

Pan and Jean stood on the outskirts of a village, starting a fire. Jean watched Pan sit on a stump of a tree, taking out his pipe. Her smile widened when he began playing. This time, she heard the music; but maybe it was because Pan had given her the chance to hear what music lured the boys to him.

Jean could understand why. It was calming, serene...and the way it hung on every note would titillate any young little boy's curiosity.

He paused, reminding Jean, "Remember. Stay close to me."

Jean nodded; he continued to whisper soft notes into the wooden pipe. His instructions were simple, but the meaning behind them sounded almost as though there might be something dangerous nearby. Was it a ferocious tiger coming about? Maybe it was some kind of dragon?

Jean watched one boy come in his pajamas. Then another. And another. They were all dressed in either long night gowns or top and bottom pajamas; some had brought their pillows, and the smaller children who had been Jay's age carried stuffed animals.

When they came to the fire, Jean stood, stepping back so she stood slightly behind Pan. As if the boys knew Pan, they all grinned and pointed.

"The pied piper, he's back, he's back!" the kids all exclaimed at different times.

As though knowing what to do, they all scrambled into the forest and came back wearing fur coats, torn pants, and the like; they waved drum sticks, odd instruments over their heads, and hit the floor; some did somersaults, back flips, cartwheels and started shouting in glee and joy.

Jean smiled when Pan gestured her to go join them; As the group began a dance around the fire, two boys took her hand and they twirled in circles with her; it was like a party in the third class department under the ship in the movie, Titanic.

Jean laughed when the boys seemed to recognize that she was a girl, but they saw her in a different light; she wasn't an ordinary girl.

They had heard about her in stories. It was odd though; they called her some kind of 'bird', or something. When they asked her name, she said 'Jean' and they all seemed surprised that her name wasn't Wendy. That was odd...In a way, Jean understood for she'd seen the animated movie in her own town. Wendy was always the 'new mother'.

They could have a new mother, the boys all agreed. And they could live with their friend, the Pied Piper, who played his pipe for them and they gleefully forgot their miserable lives as they danced and sang. Jean saw one of the boys in particular, and she stopped dancing, looking at Pan in shock.

Pan stopped playing, and the boys continued to run about, doing what their desires declared: to be free, to be happy, playing with other children.

Jean continued watching one boy, whose hair was long, black and a little fluffy, but his eyes were sad. Approaching the camp, he looked hopeful.

"Is...that..." Jean muttered, pointing at him.

"That's Baelfire," Pan told her. "He comes here occasionally, leaves when the sun is about to rise so his father doesn't catch any wind."

"Why is here now?" asked Jean.

Pan shrugged saying, "Would you want to live with the Dark One?"

Jean looked at him pointedly.

Pan smirked at her, enjoying her expression. Baelfire, the tall lad who was just a little taller than Jean, looked at her with curiosity.

"This is Jean," Pan introduced them. With relish to sweeten the deal further, he added, "She's a Mother."

Baelfire looked at Jean curiously, smiling at her when Jean grinned sweetly at him. He held out his hand; Jean took it, and they shook hands.

Baelfire then joined the rest of the boys in loud celebration, dancing and howling with the rest as he adorned a mask and fur. Jean watched him.

Pan pulled her close to him.

"His mother left him too," Pan whispered from behind Jean. "Milah."

"Why?" asked Jean.

"The same reason you abandoned your son." Pan remarked coolly.

Jean sent him a harsh look. Pan kissed her cheek.

"Don't be ashamed, babe. It's a family tradition apparently." Pan told her sheepishly.

"Shut up," Jean said, but she couldn't help but smile when Pan kissed her cheek again.

The night settled, and the boys remained with Pan, camping in the darkest parts of the woods where no one could find them. The intention of keeping them overnight was to let them have a taste of freedom, of belonging, and when the next night followed when Pan would go back to Neverland, he'd take anyone who wanted to stay with him.

While Pan had a great deal of influence over many of them as they preferred a friend rather than a father, Jean had some influence too. Pan had gathered some of them for a hunting trip, and the boys were excited and riled up for that.

The calmer ones, such as Baelfire, remained behind to be with Jean, who lied down in a hammock with ten other boys gathered around it as Jean told them a story. Pan approached her; as he did, the boys made a pathway for him.

"Will you be fine here?" Pan asked quietly.

Jean looked up from her back, smiling at him; that look...it pulled at Pan and he had other ideas of what Jean could be doing in that hammock.

"I'll be fine." Jean told him.

"What story are you going to tell?" asked Pan.

"Felix had a good story about a crocodile," Jean stated.

The boys on the floor watched Jean and Pan talk in low voices, immersed in the odd converation of mermaids, crocodiles, drunken pirates, deadly plants, water that could make one live forever, and even something about a blood red diamond, which they all noticed was worn around Jean's neck.

"I'll let them choose," Jean decided smoothly.

Pan leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek; she beamed when his kiss lingered so she turned her head and returned the fervor. Once more, he felt drawn to her and Pan scoured every ounce of discipline to keep himself from taking her right there.

"Enjoy your hunt." Jean drawled.

Pan grinned mischievously at her and rounding up the boys, they took off running with spears and makeshift swords. The boys, including Baelfire, remaining behind looked eagerly at Jean, who sat up.

"Well. We have a lot of stories in Neverland." Jean told them all. "What would you like to hear?"

"Pirates."

"Mermaids!"

"Crocodiles!"

Baelfire uttered quietly, "Are there Mothers on the island?"

Jean heard that tone before.

"Well, there aren't any other girls if that's what you're asking," Jean answered gently. "But I live on the island."

"With the Piper?"

"Yes," said Jean.

"So...so you could be our Mother?" asked one of the smaller children.

Jean shrugged saying, "If you wish it."

The other boys appeared excited. Jean began to tell them a story about how one time, she had lost her way in the jungle the first couple of weeks she had been there. She had encountered dreamshade, the deadliest plant on the island. The story took off on a tangent as every boy around her asked a different question regarding this plant and by the time Jean had explained all the damage it could do, Pan and the others were back from a hunt, carrying a pig and a deer.

Roasted pig and deer meat all around.

The night ended as the boys were sleeping in the cots surrounding the fire. It had passed quickly, and Jean watched them all from her hammock, one leg dangling out so she could lightly kick so the hammock swung side to side. Pan shuffled through the crowd, careful not to step on anyone, as he tiptoed over to her.

"Having fun?" He whispered.

Jean didn't respond, but she did slink to one side of the net so he was permitted to crawl in beside her.

"Tonight was fun," Jean told him.

"Tomorrow will be more fun."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Baelfire spent the night." Pan said; he wrapped an arm around Jean's shoulder as she snuggled in closer to him.

Jean's head rested in the crook of his shoulder; one of her hands rested on Pan's chest. Pan distractedly took Jean's hand into his.

"So he spent the night," Jean muttered. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

"Yes." Pan said quietly. "His father is highly protective. He'll be coming for him when he finds out Baelfire never came back."

"The Dark One on the prowl for his son," Jean mumbled tiredly. "Sounds a little unsettling."

"Now, Jean, where's your sense of adventure," Pan chastised playfully.

Their fingers interlaced. Jean sighed deeply, much to the resolve that there was always some kind of trouble going on when Pan was involved. But it did keep things interesting, all right. Feeling her tense against him, Pan looked at her.

"That's why I told you to stay close to me." Pan said calmly.

"Do you think he'd hurt me?"

Pan chuckled saying, "He won't."

"A little overconfident, don't you think?" Jean teased.

"You underestimate me, babe." Pan said smoothly. "I know Rumplestiltskin. When he sees you, he'll recognize you immediately. And he'll crumble just like the little child he was when I left him all those years ago."

(())()(())(())

"When he finds you," Pan told Baelfire calmly, "He'll ask you something."

Baelfire looked at Pan imploringly.

"Ask me what?"

"If you want to come to Neverland with me or stay here with him," Pan told him coolly. As though with understanding, he uttered, "If he gives you the choice, you'll know he trusts you enough to come back to him. If not, well..." Pan shrugged carelessly, "You'll have your answer to whether or not he cares."

Baelfire looked shattered at the idea, but he felt the Pied Piper was honest. The decision sounded pretty solid, and Baelfire already knew his answer. He looked after Pan, who walked off to join the other children; Jean was undoing the braid of her hair; it fell apart and her hair fell down to her waist.

He approached her.

Jean looked up when she saw Baelfire walk towards her. The thought that he was her grandson made Jean feel just a little sentimental; her smile reigned true when he asked if she enjoyed Neverland.

"I do," said Jean.

"Are the boys there...happy?" asked Baelfire quietly.

"Very much so," said Jean, although she might have hesitated, giving the thought that currently, Tock was experiencing some healing issues with his stab wound.

"Why do *you* stay?" Baelfire asked.

Another inquisitive one...

Jean smiled kindly, and admitted softly, "Why? I'm in love with the Piper."

"I thought so." Baelfire said, smiling too. "He's friendly."

Jean didn't agree or disagree with this statement. She also didn't have the time as Pan started up his music flow again and hearing it, Baelfire looked antsy. Jean gestured for him to go on and he happily cartwheeled to the fire with the other boys, dancing around, having well of a good time.

Jean noticed the boys in their fur and masks. She noticed Pan playing his pipes, and a little dance of his own. Jean stood and put a hood over her head , and began lightly dancing to the music, lost in her own world.

Someone appeared in a red dark cloak. His skin was yellow, glistening, and shiny. His eyes like a crocodile's, shone brightly against the flame. He reached out to a few of the boys, grabbing them and staring at them before he let them go in disappointment .

"Bae!" he barked. "Bae!"

Jean figured this was her cue to do as Pan instructed. 'Stay close to me'. Jean moved nearer to him, and the music seemed to distract the Dark One, for the figure vanished from one spot and appeared in the next, appearing before Pan. He snatched the pipes, snapping it in two.

"Where's my son, *Piper*."

"Is that what they're calling me," Pan drawled. He lifted his hood, smiling at him. "We both know who I really am."

Dark One looked a bit surprised. A 'bit' might have been an understatement.

"Been a long time, laddie," Pan said. "Glad you can make the show."

Still the surprise.

"You look surprised to see me, Rumple," pointed out Pan amusedly. "I heard you became the Dark One...had to see it for myself. Good for you!"

"What are you doing here?" Rumple demanded.

'Well, hello to you too', thought Jean sarcastically.

"It can be a bit boring in Neverland. The children that come to play are mostly ones that visit in their dreams. But if they come with me, they stay forever." Pan told him.

As if in realization, Rumple looked a bit surprised (still) and now, a little angry...just a little.

"You're here for my son," Rumple declared.

"I am," Pan admitted, smiling.

"Well, it's gonna take more than a silly old *pipe* to take my son from me," Rumple growled.

In retort, Pan resounded strongly, "The only magical thing about this pipe is the song it plays, and the children who hear it are boys who feel lost, boys who feel unloved..." Pan stopped for a moment, smirking wickedly as he added, "Maybe that's why *you* can hear it, Rumple. Isn't it?"

Oohh, that sneer. Jean loved it when he played dirty.

"Don't pretend to know me," snarled Rumple angrily. "You don't! Not anymore!"

"Oh, I think I do. When it comes down to it," Pan fired, "underneathe all that power,you're still just an unloved, lonely, lost boy!" He smiled suddenly. "That's what I call my friends back in Neverland. 'The Lost Boys'. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"I don't care what you call them," Rumple dangerously uttered, "my son will not be a part of it."

"Oh, he's already a part of it," Pan reassured whole-heartedly. "The question is, what are you willing to do to get him *back*?"

"I'll make you regret ever asking that question."

Jean's girlfriend instincts took a nice jumpstart and she walked towards Rumple, not sure what she would have said or done, but that threat on her love's life was enough to make her rip his heart out...be it her son or not.

Hm...this certainly gave her new perspective on things.

Pan stopped her with a glance. And Rumple, who had noticed that weird tension arise, followed his gaze to see a younger version of his mother. Their conversation, and Rumple's threat, was lost as he stared at Jean, his eyes widening.

"Is..." Rumple began, pointing at Jean and staring at Pan.

"Who do you think it is?" Pan asked, grinning maliciously.

He stepped forward, towards Jean, who instinctively took a step back.

"You..." Rumple began, his finger starting to shake. "You and...her..."

Pan grinned, seeing the Dark One shake in disbelief, and anger. Was seeing his mother after all these years causing him to tremble, to know that after all this time she had indeed been alive? Or maybe, it was the fact that both of his parents existed and neither of them had sought him out.

Or maybe, his mother had wanted to look for him but Pan had prevented her from doing so.

At this moment, Rumple saw Peter Pan, and a younger version of his mother...that was enough to make Rumple a little too guarded to even consider making a deal with Pan.

"Don't worry," Pan uttered calmly to Rumple. "I wouldn't be upset with *her*. She just realized who she was a couple of weeks ago."

Rumple stared at Jean, shaking his head.

"How...what..."

Jean smiled kindly, saying, "Magic."

Rumple understood that better than anyone. He looked at Pan.

"Give my son back. He's not staying with either of you." Rumple said, glaring at his father...and apparently, his mother.

"Well, it's not really up to us." Jean told him coolly.

Rumple made a move towards Jean. As if on instinct, Pan raised an arm in front of Jean, creating a barrier between his love and his son. Rumple watched this small movement with an icy stare, realizing that this smallest action had a great deal of meaning.

Pan had brought Rumple's mother back (at least her memories) and through various complications had found her after all these decades, and brought the two of them together again to live in a place where they could live together forever...but Pan had given up Rumple for youth in a split decision, and never tried to find him.

Talk about resentment and abandonment.

"What *are* you willing to do to get him back?" Pan questioned, diverting Rumple's angry looks from Jean and transferring them back onto him.

"You really will regret asking that question."

Pan said sarcastically, "Oh, I understand why you're upset. Most parents' worst fear is that their child will be taken from them." He pointed at him, saying, "But not you, Rumple. No. Your worst fear is that your child will leave you. But abandonment is what you're good at, isn't it, Rumple? Anyone who has ever known you has left you, including Baelfire's mother, Milah. Not to mention your own father."

Jean watched the animosity grow between Rumple and Pan.

"Why should Baelfire be any different?" Pan inquired.

Rumple whispered, "You're wrong."

Sensing Rumple's doubt, Pan retaliated, "Am I? Let's find out, shall we? You ask Baelfire if he wants to come to Neverland with me or stay here with you. If he wants to stay, I'll leave and never come back."

Pan grinned, his eyes flickering with mischief as he offered, "Deal?"

"I'm not making any deals with you." Rumple snarled. "Or her." He glanced at Jean.

"Why wouldn't you?" Pan inquired. "If you're *so* sure he'll stay?"

Rumple moved towards the crowd of boys, searching for his son.

"You don't even recognize him, do you?" Pan questioned.

"How can I, when he's wearing a mask."

"He may be wearing a mask, but that's not why you are unable to recognize him. He's playing with children. He's happy." Pan stated.

Boom, shots fired.

Pan pointed to the one boy that was Baelfire, and Rumple moved in that direction. Jean joined where Pan was standing, watching father and son talk.

"What's your gain from this exactly?"

Pan smiled saying, "To get to know my grandson."

"Really?" Jean questioned skeptically. "Why not Rumple?"

"He's not that interesting," Pan stated.

"He's the Dark One," Jean reminded.

Pan rolled his eyes, looking at her.

"I don't need the Dark One mucking things about in Neverland." Pan told her. "I don't look forward to bonding with him either. Baelfire on the other hand...he can impress me from time to time."

"So it's not getting to know your lineage then," Jean deduced. She shrugged and dismissively added, "I doubt it's even getting to know our grandson. It's part of your mission to get the heart of the Truest Believer, isn't it?"

Pan watched Rumple and Baelfire talk still. He sent her a look, as though he would retort the contrary but Jean was smiling at him, knowingly.

"Ask me what?" Baelfire inquired apprehensively.

Rumple began to speak, but then he moved Baelfire aside. Baelfire protested loudly.

"I'm sorry, Bae, but I have to protect you!" Rumple said and he poofed Baelfire and then himself.

Pan shouted after him, "You'll regret not taking my deal, Rumple!"

Jean looked at him.

"How will he regret that?" asked Jean. "He'd have lost his son one way or another."

Pan turned to her.

"Baelfire can't trust his father to let him leave and that can make a boy feel...trapped." Pan uttered, a smile reaching his face.

Jean looked thoughtfully at the ground.

"What's wrong?" Pan asked.

Jean said quietly, "Peter. I admit that I love not having to worry about jobs, or troubles, or parenting...at least, not the real kind of parenting. But..." She crossed her arms, exhaling sharply. "The way Rumple looked at me...Its like..."

Pan smiled, understanding.

"It's like you left him all over again." Pan finished for her.

Jean nodded.

"It's all right." Pan reassured. "Neither of us were cut out to be parents."

"We're like parents in Neverland," Jean reminded. "Some of the boys see you as a father; And I get called Mother all the time, even by the older boys. Even Felix calls me 'Mother'."

Pan sighed, "What do you want me to do, Jean? Hmm?"

Jean looked at him helplessly.

"I don't know." She said. "But you've had years to get over what happened with Rumple. It feels like it just happened, and just seeing him, seeing his eyes just pull at me."

Pan said softly, "The irony is almost overwhelming, isn't it?"

Jean nodded.

"We left this place to go to an island where we have no responsibilities, or children. And now we have taken the roles of Mother and Father and we bring children there." Jean uttered flatly.

Pan gestured to her as if she just figured out that mad puzzle of Neverland.

"That's really fucked up," Jean stated.

Pan chuckled, saying, "I agree. But right now, we have friends to take back with us." He indicated nearly ten boys who were still dancing around and the like.

"All of them?" Jean muttered. "We're really turning into more of a Lost Army than just simple Lost Boys."

Pan chuckled amusedly at her statement but it reigned true.


	18. Neverland Favorites

()()()()

23 boys.

Twenty extra pairs of feet hit the sand as Jean and Pan arrived in Neverland; it was a good thing to, as the Pixie Dust was wearing off. The green glittery glow flickered and slowly faded. Pan took Jean aside, and told her that he would get the other Lost Boys so they only made introductions once. She knew the routine; the older Lost Boys and Pan always gave the newbies a tour, scaring them shitless with nightmares of dreamshade and filling their heads with the idea that one could kiss a mermaid and live to tell the tale.

As Pan left, Jean looked at the ten extra kids. Lord, it was going to be hard remembering all of their names. For the exception of Kibbles (his own nickname for himself, not hers) who was about 7 years old had held her hand the entire flight, Jean didn't really know any of them.

Kibbles was a small lad, reminding her very much of Jay, except he had a gap in the front of his teeth where his father had knocked him through a screen door and he had hit his chin on the concrete porch. Kibbles reminded Jean of a beaten up, bruised, and broken puppy dog that still sought love and attention; he was awfully affectionate, more than what was normal.

The eldest of the lot was Jonathan, or as he preferred, 'Tin'; a lanky, scrawny, over zealous 17 year old who sought to leave adulthood, to never ever have to worry about getting a job at his father's bank. While he was lanky, he still demonstrated some kind of strength, but more resiliency rather than dexterity. He had leapt at the idea of leaving for Neverland the moment Pan offered. Tin could be hit over and over again, and sure he would recoil, but he would survive for years to come. Maybe that's why he gave himself that nickname?

There was Cricket. About 11 years old, freckles covered every place on his body, and hair like Crimson, Cricket (as he called himself) liked to whistle. The way he did was sometimes not all drawn out and it only came in spare tones, as if he was still practicing. The whistles came at random, but chirpy. Cricket had a fondness for crickets and grasshoppers.

The other boy that stood out most to Jean, besides the others aforementioned, was Edge. He had a different air about him, and not the kind Jean liked as she did with Cricket, Tin or Kibbles. He had a deadpan stare; Jean felt if she ever fell into his eyes, the emptiness of them would consume her and she'd be lost in them forever but not happily as she was when she looked at Pan. In the darkness that would swallow Jean, she would become a prisoner.

Edge came from a supposedly loving family, with mother and a father who cherished him greatly. He lived a lot better than most, and his reasons for leaving were vague. However, Pan had told him his reasons were his and his alone, and there was something for everyone to love about Neverland. With that promise in mind, Edge had come with them...but his predatory gaze towards Jean made her feel just like a small child as she had felt in a bad foster family with a foster brother who was too affectionate.

The boys around her were laughing already, kicking sand up in the air. Jean stood to the side; Kibbles remained at her heels, practically clinging onto her ankle. She allowed it...it was nice seeing a little one around. Jean had missed Jay a great deal; but as Pan had explained to her many times already, it had been necessary to get her memories back.

"What should we do first?" Tin said eagerly, smiling at everyone. "I wanna hunt!"

"No way," said Cricket, "I wanna wrestle one of them alligators."

"Crocodiles," Jean corrected.

"I want to know more about our 'mother'," said Edge in an eerily calm voice.

Jean held back a shudder. This kid made her uncomfortable...not in the same way Tock did on the daily, but Tock was foolish and idiotic. Edge had a different, well, edge. He appeared calculating, and his eyes...they held no type of emotion. He said he was happy to be here, said he was happy to have come, but there was no denying there was something else to him. Knowing this, Jean stepped away from him.

"How did *you* come to Neverland?" asked Edge, smirking at her.

Fucking creepy.

Jean said nothing. Not that she needed to. Arriving as if to her rescue, Pan came with the other lost boys: Slightly, Nibs, Toodles, the Twins, Tock, Devin, and Felix, who sauntered by Pan's side.

Pan glanced at Jean, seeing her discomfort; she looked at Pan, exchanging glances with him.

All the boys watched in awe as Jean and Pan seemingly could communicate just by expressions alone. Pan seemed to ask a question with the furrowing of his eyebrows and concerned expression on his face, and Jean shook her head. A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth, but it hardly reached her eyes.

Pan tilted his head back, still perplexed by her odd behavior, but he was then distracted by all the boys practically gaining up to him, trying to talk him into getting into one of his hunts. Felix had already brought them into an uproar with the scenario of skewing a boar, and twisting its body over a roaring camp fire; later, they would celebrate their crude victory with the s'mores they could imagine in their hands if they believed hard enough in the magic of Neverland.

Pan glanced at Jean again, though, and she smiled at him. He looked at Felix, who returned his gaze; his right-hand then gazed at Jean, and recognizing his Queen's discomfort, too, he nodded to Pan.

"Start without me," Pan told him.

"Understood," Felix replied dutifully. "Anything else?"

Pan pointed in the direction of Deadman's Peak. Smirking, he said, "Let's see how tough these new boys really are."

"And if any of them get pricked by the plant? What will you have me do?" Felix requested.

"You know what to do." Pan said, tilting his head to the side sharply at the Never-waters where the hungry, chomping great jaws of 64 foot albino crocodiles lurked in the darkest depths of the ocean.

"Roger that," Felix muttered, but he grinned just as darkly. He led them to the peak and all the boys whooped and screamed happily as they all took off running.

Pan turned to Jean, and he seemed a bit taken aback when all had gone to hunt for the exception of one. Kibbles had not left Jean's side since they had arrived; the little one held Jean's leg, but he wasn't frightened. Just overly attached.

Jean sat on a rock, Kibbles still attached to her.

Jean was mildly impressed when Pan took a knee in front of Kibbles, watching the seven year old pile a bunch of a sand over one of Jean's feet, covering her toes, then her ankle. Kibbles patted down the pile so it smoothed over and then he started adding more sand.

"What do you call yourself?" Pan asked lightly.

Jean's eyebrows lifted as she heard Pan speak in, what she could only assume, was his fatherly voice. Definitely not the one he had used with his son back in Hamelin, but might have done so when Rumple had been Kibbles' age.

"Kibbles," the boy answered shyly.

He was shy towards Pan, not looking at him. Instead, Kibbles just kept adding more and more sand on top of Jean's foot, apparently making a child's example of a sand castle.

"Kibbles." Pan repeated, smiling. "That's a unique name. How'd you choose it?"

"My dog eats Kibbles. I love Jupiter."

Kibbles 'n' Bits was a dog brand. Jupiter must have been the name of the dog. Pan glanced up at Jean for an explanation of all of that, but she tried not to smile as she just shook her head and gestured for him to keep going.

"Well...Kibbles..." Pan said gently, "I would like to talk to Jean alone for a moment. I need you to stay over here and keep building this castle of yours."

Kibbles seemed upset by this as he now looked at Pan with teary eyes.

"Only for a moment," Pan reassured. "We'll be right there." He pointed to the edge of the shore, not even ten feet away.

Kibbles sighed then nodded.

Pan straightened, looking seriously at Jean. He made a motion with his hand for her to come. Jean stood, slowly shaking her foot of the sand while Kibbles huffed since he had to start from scratch all over again. Pan placed his hand on the small of Jean's back, guiding her to their disclosed location. When they were out of ear shot, Pan looked at her.

"I know that look." Pan stated. "What happened while I was gone?"

"Nothing." Jean answered honestly.

"If that's true, why do you look so disturbed?"

"Is that what I look like?" said Jean half-jokingly.

Pan sighed, lowering his hands to his side.

"If there's something bothering you, babe, how can i know if you don't tell me?" He questioned sternly.

Jean held her arm, looking in the direction where the boys had started running. Pan looked in the same direction, then at her. He thought for a moment and he seemed to realize something.

"It's one of the new ones, isn't it?" Pan said knowingly.

Jean smiled weakly, saying, "I don't know...I just think I'm paranoid."

"I doubt it," Pan returned. "Your instincts seem spot on with everything we've gone through in the past couple of decades. Who made you uncomfortable?"

"Peter, I think I'm just overreacting."

Pan gave her a look.

"I know you, Jean. You can lie to Felix, to all of them, even my Shadow. But we *both* know you can't lie to me." Pan said calmly. "Now I saw it in your eyes, and I still see it. Who made you uncomfortable?"

Jean crossed her arms, saying, "I wouldn't lie to you, Peter, but it wouldn't be the first time I let my paranoia cloud my judgement. Remember I almost slit your throat, thinking you were someone else trying to trick me? I think it's one of those things again."

Pan stepped towards her, his hand placed along her jaw as he lifted it so she was forced to meet and look into his eyes. Their emerald green reflected back to her and she saw that familiar animal inside. The territorial beast that became rabid when he felt someone was threatening his queen.

"Tell me." Pan said lowly. "And that's not a request."

Jean met his eyes. She placed her fingers over the wrist of the hand that held her chin firmly. The softness and gentleness of her touch seemed to smoothe him over, but Pan remained in his element, waiting for a name.

"He calls himself Edge," Jean finally responded reluctantly.

"Mm, the rich one." Pan recalled. "Why does he make you uncomfortable?"

Jean shrugged, saying, "He reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

Jean frowned, saying, "I don't want to get into the nitty gritty, but I told you I'd been in good and bad foster homes before. Well, he reminds me of someone i lived with while in one of the bad ones."

Pan looked at her curiously.

Jean continued unhappily, "He was a foster brother for a time. And he was a bit too touchy. Too affectionate." She added darkly, "Especially when my foster parents were away for the weekend."

Pan's expression shifted from curiosity to disgust, but it was not aimed towards her. The idea of someone else touching Jean was unknown to him; the idea that it had been a family member (foster, blood or otherwise) was simply repulsive.

"Is it him?" Pan asked.

"No. Edge isn't him, but he reminds me of him. Two different people..." Jean said. She shuddered slightly, "Same concept though."

"Do you want my Shadow to bring him back to his land?" offered Pan.

"No. Yes...I don't know," said Jean. "I mean, it's not his fault he reminds me of him."

"Jean, if you don't want him here, I'll get rid of him," Pan told her.

"What, you're going to kill him?"

Pan chuckled, "No. Like I said, I was going to have my Shadow bring him back to his land." He touched Jean's cheek with his thumb and index finger, the innermost of his hand stroked her chin with some admiration as he added, "I like the way you think though."

Jean met his smile with an expected kiss, her eyes closing to lose herself in it. She felt his arms wrap around her back, his hands on her waist as he kissed her back. Jean softly laughed when he pulled her closer to him, their bodies leaving very little distance between them. That possessiveness of his, to prove that she was only his, seemed to take over when they kissed again; he was rough, and dominating. Jean's hands had been resting on his shoulders, but now, in response to his wily passions, the material of his tunic was now clenched in her fists as she, too, pulled him closer.

They could spark a fire with the friction between them. It was ironic, because just as things were heating up between them, the water near them had started steaming, the waves of the ocean had started crashing; Jean and Pan noticed this.

"Apparently the island knows you better than me when you're getting turned on," Jean teased.

Pan smirked at her, saying, "Oh, that's not me, Love. It's you."

Jean stared at him, then looked back at the steaming ripples, and the ocean's high tide. Pan held his hand up slowly, then pointed to her neck. Jean glanced down to see the blood diamond on her silver chain, the one she had created out of pure magic, belief, and emotion was glowing bright as a fire. Jean looked up to see Pan grinning gleefully at her.

"What does this mean?" Jean asked quietly.

Pan placed two fingers under the diamond then said smoothly to her, "It means that I should start educating you on just how much power you have acquired being on the island with me as long as you have."

Jean gave him a look, saying, "But...I'm not magic, I don't..."

"The island would disagree," Pan replied kindly as he indicated the sky which had turned a brilliant shade of pink, orange and blue, the colors Jean deemed as romantic.

"I thought the island only responded to you." Jean stated.

"It does. But it now..." Pan said, lowering his hand from the fiery glow of the gem to stroke his thumb along her cheek, "it seems to have taken a liking to *you* as well."

He did not offer much of an explanation to go on; he began walking away.

She walked after him, "look, could we just let it go, okay, the thing with Edge; For all I know, he's just a creepy kid that needs some TLC."

Pan turned around to look at her oddly.

"Tender Loving Care," Jean identified his confusion.

"You don't want anything to be done about him." Pan clarified. "What do you plan on doing then?"

"Ignore him?" offered Jean.

Pan rolled his eyes, muttering, "Wow, Jean. That's the least imaginative way I could have thought of dealing with him. Kinda disappointed." He shrugged and said (possessively) as an afterthought, "But I'm still considering killing him."

Jean sighed.

If Edge went missing off the island, she'd know why. She put a bug in his ear that Edge liked her (not in the dorky, clumsy school boy crush way like Devin or even Tock), and Pan was already contemplating ways of ending him. That just proved the affirmation: Pan would do anything, especially if it gave Jean her best chance at happiness, for her to feel safe, including killing a creepy, but probaby innocent, boy.

The scary part of it was Jean wasn't surprised by it. In fact, she'd come to expect it, which is why she'd done all she could not to reveal the boy's name. After all, Pan had carved Jay's heart out of his chest just to make Jean remember a past life. She wouldn't put it past him to kill a boy that made his queen feel unsafe on his own island.

Then again, she wouldnt mind his body floating on the surface of the ocean..maybe she could watch and see how long it would take before the mermaids found him. Maybe she could see how fast a body could fall when it was pushed off the edge of a cliff...now that she thought of it, killing him might have been a good idea.

"Let's do it then," said Jean.

Pan stopped walking towards the camp, and stopped in his tracks. He turned around to look at Jean who was walking just behind him with Kibbles dancing after her, humming a song unknown to either of them.

"Do what?"

"Take the edge off, so to speak," She answered.

"Really, babe? *Puns*?" Pan retorted, but he was smiling.

"Let's blind fold him and put him on the cliff, then just as we push him off, we take off the blind fold and he can watch himself fall to his death." Jean said. "Or we can tie him to the rock during high tide like we did with Jock. Oh, wait. I have a different idea. Let's incinerate him! It could be a game like hot potato!"

Pan stared at her. Jeans smile never left her face.

"It's so hot when you talk like that," Pan told Jean in the most restrained voice Jean had ever heard, laced with lust. He put a hand around her shoulders, calling over his own shoulder to Kibbles, "Getting lost back there, son, keep up!"

Kibbles took after them in a brisk walk as they strolled through the jungle, talking in low voices of other ways they could kill Edge.

"Wouldn't mind seeing what happens when a bunch of drunken pirates get ahold of someone like him," Jean brainstormed. "Get them drunk, they're liable to fuck anything that moves. Even if they are creepy."

Pan laughed at this.

"What's gotten into you?" Pan asked amusedly, although he didn't seem to mind hearing her blood lust had returned. She had been a bit down in the dumps since receiving her memories of her former self and he was happy to have his Jean back.

"I don't know," said Jean brightly. "Maybe it's the island...or you." She grinned when he shook his head.

"No..." Pan told her. "When you don't have a care in the world, you can do whatever you want. You're free."

Jean nodded, saying, "I don't care about who I was before. I don't want to be her anymore, Peter. I don't want to be an adult, I want to be me. What happened all those years ago, I don't care." She kissed Pan's cheek.

Pan smiled at her saying, "You've no idea how great it is to hear that."

Jean said dangerously, "Then how about we commemorate this occasion. Let's go on a hunt ourselves. For a certain little lost boy."

"I couldn't have said it better myself." Pan agreed.


	19. Ride Out The Storm

Jean had devised many of ways on how to kill Edge. Drowning, stabbing, maiming, burning alive, mermaid bait, crocodile food, pirate sex slave...the ideas rolled off her tongue like the little sadist Pan was starting to recognize. During their walk through the jungle, Kibbles would touch every branch he came in contact with, looking with the curiosity of a seven-year-old. Pan had his arm around her waist, keeping her close to him, and not just for displays of affection either.

The talk led him to believe that Edge could be a threat to his love's happiness. Any threat to Jean was a threat to him. Currently, they were still brainstorming, but if the lad ever made so much as a move to do anything to Jean, Pan would hold his own personal hunting party and pursue the vendetta with the greatest predatory skill he finely possessed.

"He's falling behind again," Jean muttered with a hidden smile as she reminded Pan that they had a tag-a-long.

Pan glanced back to see Kibbles starting towards a rather dangerous looking thicket and just as Kibbles was about to prick his finger on one of the little thorns, Pan had disappeared in a blink of an eye and reappeared behind the boy just in the nick of time, pulling Kibbles from the prickly plants.

Kibbles had his first lesson about Dreamshade. Encouraged by Pan, the little one ran to Jean, and took her hand. Pan joined up with the two of them, sheepishly smiling at Jean who was gazing at him with the fondness of a wife. While they could pretend all they wanted that they had never been adults or parents, they certainly had a knack for appearing like husband and wife, as well as father and mother. Pan linked his arm around Jean's waist once more and, with Jean holding Kibbles' hand, they continued their stroll through the jungle.

"You know," Jean started conversationally, "I've been on this island a little over a century and Neverland has not once ever responded to my emotions...romantic or otherwise."

Pan returned casually, "So you're wondering 'why now', then?"

"Yes."

Pan leaned to his side briefly to kiss her cheek, saying, "You've been here long enough, longer than anyone else besides myself, that the island has taken a liking to you, Jean. You think it's you who've tasted the way magic and power feels, but island has been tasting you."

"That sounds really perverted." Jean muttered.

"Did you like it?" asked Pan.

"Like what?"

"Did you like knowing you were causing the change in tide, in the sky?" Pan asked, "Having power is exhilerating."

Jean nodded saying, "Yeah, I guess I did like it."

"I told you a long time ago that I knew you, Jean. You are a powerful woman; you have the potential, if only you believed it yourself."

"I turned a pebble into a prettier rock," said Jean, shrugging. "That's not potential."

"You see, that doubt is coming from adults scolding you all the time, holding you back," Pan stated patiently. "You think it's a coincidence that we found each other time and time again? Do you think that if you had no talent for magic that this island would bother wasting any of its precious resources on you?"

He chuckled saying, "I don't think so."

"What about you?" asked Jean.

Pan answered distractedly, "*What* about me?"

"If you didn't think I had any magical capability, would you have taught me anything?" Jean questioned.

Pan smiled at her saying, "To be honest, probably not. But You dont believe in your own ability, but you turn a simple bland pebble into an uncommonly rare gem. So i can only imagine the things you'd be capable of if you did. That rock you're wearing is a symbol of just how much you could do, if you just let yourself."

Jean stopped walking, so Pan did as well. He looked at her expectantly.

"You really believe in me, don't you?" Jean asked quietly, smiling a little.

"Yes." Pan responded confidently.

Jean beamed, saying, "What else could you teach me?"

Pan smirked at her eagerness. They continued to walk on.

"You'll learn in time," said Pan smoothly. Again, he called over his shoulders, "You're falling behind again, laddie!"

Kibbles ran from the another dangerous looking thicket to catch up with Jean and Pan. Jean smirked at Pan when Kibbles held the hem of Pan's shirt so as not to fall behind again. Pan glanced at Kibbles coolly, but allowed the little one to hold onto him.

"Ill accept what you say, about my potential." Jean mused.

Kibbles watched his new mother and Peter Pan speak in low voices, and he smiled when he saw Jean and Pan holding hands, their fingers interlaced together. Pan's thumb stroked the back of her hand occasionally as they talked.

()()()()()

They arrived at camp just like that, holding hands and talking with Kibbles now holding Jean's other hand. Felix, who had brought the army back long ago, was roasting a pig on the large bonfire; some of the other boys, including Slightly, Tock and Nibs were showing the newcomers how to sharpen spears and daggers. Toodles and the Twins were showing Cricket and Tin how to hang their clothes on the line (apparently Toodles had fallen in a river...again); and the rest were throwing daggers at the ground to see just who could throw the sharpest and most accurate of throws. Edge was no where to be found. Since he was an unsightly bastard, no one gave him the light of day.

Pan left Jean's side to have a talk with Felix about something, and they disappeared into the forest out of ear shot. Jean had a more in depth conversation with Kibbles about the dangers of Dreamshade so the child would not be tempted to ever touch it again. Some time after, Pan arrived out from a different direction than where he had gone, but Jean had become accustomed to his flashy disappearing acts and 'woosh' sounding entrances.

"I want to show you something,'' Pan said as Kibbles joined the older boys and the dagger darts.

Jean followed Pan to the Treehouse, which was a little ways away from the others. They climbed up the ladder, Pan lifting the hatch so Jean moved around him and entered first. As he pulled himself up into the tree, Pan closed the hatch after himself. Getting to his feet, Pan walked past Jean, who watched him curiously.

"What is it?" Jean asked interestedly, when he opened the trunk in front of the bedframe.

He brought out a small box which would fit in an average sized palm. He told Jean to sit on the bed, and she did as she was told, one leg underneath her, the other dangling. Pan joined her a second later. Out of the box, he pulled out a vial; inside was a blue glowing liquid. Jean, who had become well versed in potion making over the year, gave it one look and knew exactly what it was.

"Why do you have this?" asked Jean quietly.

Pan held it out to her, and she took it carefully so as not to spill it.

"For a rainy day," Pan said simply. "You said you wanted to forget."

"I was once a mother and a wife," Jean said quietly, looking at the elixir with some reiminsce. "I have lived in bad homes and good homes, and everything in between. At one point, heh" (she laughed a little as she remembered) "I was living as a beggar on the streets."

Pan joined her on the bed, watching her.

"For years, I wished I could forget who I was and where I came from." Jean admitted quietly. "All that pain...all that humiliation." She looked at Pan, smiling kindly. "I know you want me to take this so I can forget about being what I was and focus on being Jean, but if I take this potion, I'll forget all of that."

She handed it back to Pan.

"Knowing what I once was and who I am now, and choosing to be Jean is better than not having chosen at all." Jean told him sweetly.

"While I can admire all of that," Pan stated calmly, "You're wrong about me wanting you to forget who you were. This isn't a forgetfulness potion."

Jean stared at him, saying, "It is."

"No." Pan stated. "It's not. It's a love potion."

Jean looked at the vial. Staring it closely, she saw the slightest difference. Pale blue and diluted blue were definitely different but hard to tell unless otherwise specified.

She looked up at Pan indignantly, standing up slowly. Pointing to it, Jean said carefully, "Why do you have a love potion?"

Pan appeared malicious. His eyes staring her down in such an unfamiliar way that made Jean even more suspicious. What made it more odd was that love potions were not colored blue. Pan had a little chemistry behind his back, so it was interesting that the color reflecting was not the right one. Something else might have been added.

"So you'll forget all about him." Pan seethed.

Before Jean could react, Pan suddenly moved forward, snatching her hair and yanking it back so it caused her to cry out and he quickly poured the vial of liquid into Jean's mouth; she struggled fiercely, spitting as much out as she could, rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand. Just as so, the hatch burst open, and a second Pan barrelled upwards, looking positively outraged.

Jean looked at two Pans, and had a de ja vu all over again. Pan (the one that had just arrived) reached his hand out to the other Pan and caught his throat. Those emerald eyes brightened and almost seemed neon and as though magic raced from his being to the other Pan who was now clawing at the hand around his throat; in an instant, the choking duplicate lost its disguise and there he was...Edge who had earlier not been seen upon Pan and Jean's arrival.

"Get behind me." Pan ordered, his lips curled, and teeth bared.

Jean did so. She felt humiliated for having been tricked a second time, granted she had picked up on the odd behavior and weird potion making a minute prior to Pan's arrival.

Pan was pissed off.

Jean could tell. Edge could tell. But the entire island could tell as the sky rolled with thunder and the clouds outside had become dark and gray, the wind picking up. Edge appeared quite calm despite everything.

"She drank the potion," Edge chuckled darkly. "She'll forget who you are and she'll love me."

Pan let him go. He took Edge's arm as though to help him up but the moment Edge straightened, Pan took Edge's wrist in one hand and then twisted it sharply so the bones snapped beneath his fingers, and Edge cried out in sharp screams. Jean winced at the shrillness.

Then Edge was begging for the pain to stop. Pan pulled Edge down to the ground, his arm flat and so the latter's hand was face down. With a brown boot pinning down the elbow, Pan then snapped Edge's arm in two places; the crunching and splitting of bone was almost as terrifying as the blood curdling screams that left Edge's mouth.

"You're the second to do this, you know," Pan said calmly. He strolled to the other side and broke Edge's other arm with just as much ferocity, still talking: "It was funny the first time, I admit. But now, it's annoying."

"Please, I'm sorry, please oh god make it stop, please, PLEASE!" screamed Edge tearfully. "Have mercy."

Pan stooped down to meet Edge eye-to-eye, and said calmly, "Sure, I'll have mercy. But sadly, I'm not the one you tried to deceive." He slowly looked up at Jean. "What do you think, babe?"

Jean who had kept her arms crossed and her eyes away from Edge now looked at Pan with what had originally been sympathy.

"Please, Pan, please. oh god it hurts so much oh god."

"I won't be the one who stops it." Pan told him. "It's not up to me."

Edge looked at Jean for help.

If Jean said something, told Pan to help Edge, Pan would have done it. There was no question of it. But everyone on the island knew just how Jean could influence his decisions for the good or for the worse. Jean could normally persuade Pan to help anyone, but today was not one of those days. Today, Jean proved just how dangerous she could be as she said nothing to help the lost boy.

"I won't let him kill you," Jean whispered darkly.

Pan looked a bit disappointed.

She knelt down and touched Edge's sweaty forehead, her hand then caressing his cheek. She bent down so their faces were only inches apart, close enough to kiss.

Jean breathed angrily, "Because I will."

She stood up, looking at Pan.

"Teach me..." She said. "I want to rip out his heart."

Pan quirked an eyebrow, impressed. She practically knocked the wind out of him. Edge appeared more terrified than ever (mind you, he had two broken arms in five different places, unable to defend himself). Pan moved closer to Jean.

"You have to feel for it," Pan instructed softly. "When you find it, hold it in your hand, then rip it out."

"Will it hurt him?" Jean asked, her smile darkening.

Pan uttered, "Only if you want it to." He had spoken those words in the same manner as he did when he said he loved her. Jean grinned, her eyes flickering; the madness in them made Edge try to crawl away, but to no avail.

"I want to do it." Jean said eagerly, her voice nearly hoarse with the blood lust.

Outside, the wind was howling and the thunder crashed; lightning flashed and cracked open the sky. The Lost Boys outside ran under more sturdy tents; some hid in treehouses scattered about the camp.

Jean smiled sweetly at Edge, but it was horrifying.

"I want to rip his heart out, hold it in my hand and then watch him die as I crush it." Jean said lovingly, smiling at Pan now.

"Then let me help you." Pan said.

She held out her hand; he held her wrist gently in the palm of his left hand while the right hovered over hers in a few circles; Jean's hand glowed red. Pan nodded to her for the go, and Jean slowly stood. As she approached a frightened Edge, Pan stood to his feet, his eyes wide with interest and amusement.

He grinned when Jean thrust her hand into Edge's chest. Jean was merciless as she took her sweet time 'searching' for his heart, the boy screaming and crying and shrieking with pain.

Pan was impressed. Jean truly wanted Edge to feel *everything*. The malice of sweet pleasure was written on her face the entire time, and as slow as she was for searching for the traitor's heart, she took even more time pulling it out of him. When she did, the boy fell to his side, panting and crying.

"Look at me." Jean cooed, caressing Edge's face with her free hand, her thumb stroking his cheek. When Edge did as he was told, Jean purred, "Good boy."

Then she slowly, ever so slowly, began tightening her grip on his ever beating heart. Pan could see the boy just writhing in pain on the floor, hoping against hope that Jean would become bored but the more she clenched her fist, the happier Jean appeared; her grin was so big, all of her teeth shown.

"Please..." Edge begged. "Please. stop...st-op."

"The only way I will stop," said Jean, "is when you've died."

"No...Don't."

Jean spent the last few minutes just tightening her grip on his heart and when the boy seemed to nearly have had enough, she crushed it between her fingers. Edge shuddered, shook, then he went limp.

Jean wiggled her fingers, watching the dust fly off to the ground. She sighed deeply, smiling, closing her eyes. She turned around to see Pan staring at her, jaw dropped, and his eyebrows higher than she'd ever seen them.

At first, Jean thought it was because he was impressed with her. But when Jean looked around at the bedside mirror, she realized the reason behind his dumbfounded expression.

She looked different.

And that was an understatement.

Neverland had changed her, and its power had changed her entire appearance just as it done with Malcolm, changing him into Pan.

Jean's once doey brown eyes were bright blue, as clear and bright as the sky with a winged look to them. Her once soft brown hair was black as ebony, cut to her shoulders and the dress she had worn before had turned black, a style a gothic chick would favor. The leather black material gave way to curves Jean didn't realize she even possessed! The dress itself went just above her knees, and her simple ankle high boots were black knee-high heeled boots that laced up the front.

"Darkness looks good on you," Pan uttered breathlessly.

Jean was shocked by his words but then she realized that, yes, she did enjoy the darkness. And it enjoyed her. She smirked at Pan, who walked towards her, still in obvious pleasurable shock. Jean looked back at the mirror, watching his reflection approach hers from behind.

"I'm proud of you," Pan said softly, his arms moving around her so his hands rested on her stomach.

"How did this happen," muttered Jean, still staring at her reflection for it had not been her own.

"You realized your own potential." Pan whispered and his voice in her ear made Jean's stomach roll.

As shocked as she had been to see a different reflection, she knew Pan had been overtly pleased. She also felt it against her butt when he moved his body against hers. Jean turned her head to the side and he lowered his lips to meet hers at angle. She moved her body, brushing her back against his chest so her butt moved against his stiff erection. Jean heard him groan inwardly.

The kiss that followed suit was expectantly passionate as the two enriched themselves in the moment of a cold-blooded kill (that had not completely been unjustified).

"What was in that vial if it wasn't a love potion?" Jean inquired distractedly; she looked back in the mirror to see him kissing her neck, his eyes closed as he grasped her hips with his large hands and moved her body so she rubbed against him in a light but steady grind.

"Ocean water," Pan sighed.

He turned her around and Jean looked up to see his lustful gaze. That hunger looking back at her, reflecting her own. She watched him lick his lips and the fleeting thought of what else he could be doing with that mouth made Jean wet.

"Why did you have water from the Never-shore in a chest?" Jean asked, giggling after when Pan moved her to the bed, and then between her legs.

"Do you really want to have this conversation *now*?" Pan asked impatiently.

Jean smiled sheepishly, but had no complaints as he made quickly with the removal of her clothes, being none too gentle. Jean had never seen him so riled up, so horny and impatient as he growled when he couldn't get his own clothes off in time.

Jean remembered the pain he bestowed on Edge, breaking his arms.

That strength, that power...

Now suddenly Jean felt impatient too. She smacked his hands away and Pan smirked as she tore his clothes from his body. When the two were completely naked, Pan crawled on top of her, touching and groping every part of her leaving no part of his murderess unchecked. All the while, they kissed hard and fierce, neither of them restraining their moans.

Jean's bright eyes now blue cast shadows of desire as she suddenly grabbed Pan by his shoulders and shoved him on his back. He was ready to switch it on her, until Jean mounted him with her thighs straddling his.

Nothing could have prepared Pan for what came next.

She leaned back and put all of him inside of her and when he tilted his head back in pleasure, a moan had begun to escape him; he parted his lips to tell her something; Jean clamped her hand over his mouth though, preventing him from doing so.

She grinned darkly at him as she began riding him, at first it was a slow agonizing pace then it built to a quick bounce. Pan could feel her thigh muscles holding him in place as they squeezed and relaxed then again. Her body moved and contorted with the ferocity of her dance.

Pan's moans were muffled by her hand, and it only excited him further when she then lowered her body so their chests rubbed against each other; her lips touched against his ear as she whispered the naughtiest things to him.

His eyes rolled in the back of his head when she had quickened her pace further, pushing him over the edge. Jean's hand left his mouth and she grinned when she heard him release his flow of pleasurable moans, loud and clear. Her heart raced with the exhileration, feeling her own climax ready to peak.

Pan sat up, digging his fingertips into her hips as he thrusted himself inside her as Jean would lower herself onto him, finding her deepest and most sensitive areas and hitting every one of them.

They were sweaty, moaning, writhing bodies, grinding and riding, thrusting, and groping for one another. The volume of the cries of pleasure only evolved as Jean was meeting her peak, her screams becoming eloquent sounds to Pan's ears. Her head tilted back and her back arched while her fingernails dug into his back.

The orgasm that came hit her like a thunderbolt and her body shook, and responded. Pan could feel every part of her body taking him on and he had a small shock of pleasure of his own, feeling the contraction of muscles form a bit of a vibration around his cock.

Jean rolled her shoulders back and wrapped her arms tiredly around Pan's neck when the major part of the orgasm was over but she still was enjoying the rippling affects.

Sweat rolled down their backs and chests, the two of them panting, hard. They sat for a moment with Jean's legs still around him with her feet on the mattress, his cock still inside of her; Pan could feel her walls still contracting from the strong climax and he smiled when Jean's body shuddered from the after shocks.

"You're something else," Pan muttered, looking into the brilliant cerulean eyes.

"So you keep saying," said Jean softly. "Okay...I'm going to move. Are you ready?"

"Yes I-mmmmm." Pan let out an involuntary moan as she slid herself off him.

She grinned broadly as he laid down on his back. Jean crawled over to him, and licked his cheek like a kitten would have.

Pan chuckled at the little gesture.

()()()()

"How did you know I was in trouble?" asked Jean softly.

Pan was sitting up in bed, the covers over his lap while Jean laid against his chest. His hands were tangled through her hair. He played with her locks, braiding them then untwisting them later distractedly. Hearing her question, Pan sighed softly and she felt his chest rise then fall.

"Normally, I would have sensed it; being connected to Neverland, I have know of everything that happens on the island, especially if it pertains to my girl." Pan told Jean, whose heart leapt when she heard him call her 'his girl'.

"This time was different?"

"Not exactly," Pan said, braiding her hair again. "I felt something was wrong but what confirmed my suspicions was the oddest statement from a common fairy."

Jean chuckled, "Tink?"

"Mhm."

"How did she know?"

"Originally," said Pan casually, "she had come looking for me to ask permission to leave the island for items she could obtain in the Enchanted Forest. Then when she tried to catch my attention, she said I 'gave her the look'."

Jean smiled, saying, "And that's what made her suspicious?"

"Tinkerbell may be an ex-fairy, but she knows me well enough that there is only one girl I ever look at," Pan stated sternly.

Jean inwardly smiled.

Pan continued, "After the brief chat, I came to the camp looking for you. When I could find neither you or him, I put the rest of the puzzle together."

Jean sat up, looking at him.

"Answer my question from earlier."

"Which one?"

"Why did you have ocean water in a vial just sitting around in the chest? What purpose did that serve?" asked Jean curiously.

Pan smiled saying, "You realize half the things I do is just for fun. Why do you even bother asking?"

"Sounds pretty convenient that the person who wanted me knew where to look and what to do with it," Jean said coolly. "So either you put him up to the task or you have a knack for coincidences."

Pan raised an eyebrow saying, "You think I'm behind that?"

Jean shrugged saying, "You're a cunning one, Peter Pan."

He gestured for her to lie back down and she did so; Jean felt his hands on her shoulders, and she closed her eyes with the feeling of his fingertips gliding down her arm to her fingers then back up again, sending pleasurable tingles down her spine.

"I told him about the 'potion' in the treehouse, sure," said Pan slyly. "You got me."

Sternly, however, he promised, "I didn't think he was stupid enough to try and disguise himself as me."

"How did he do that?" Jean asked, then immediately she guessed, "Pixie dust?"

"Yes, and I've remedied that from ever happening."

"How?"

Pan smiled saying, "I granted Tinkerbell permission to leave the island if she did something for me."

"Naturally. What was the favor?"

"You can't guess?"

"I don't like guessing games," Jean said. "But I'm guessing you have a huge storage of pixie dust somewhere on the island so no one else can ever pretend to be you ever again."

Pan smirked. "For someone who doesn't like guessing games, you're correct more than half the time."

Jean beamed.

"I guess you're rubbing off on me, then."

Jean sat up again, and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled at her as she laid back down and repositioned so she could fall asleep. He laid down with her, putting his arms around her protectively. There was that possessiveness again, Jean felt when he pulled her close to him and then she felt him lick her cheek as she'd done to him so many times in the past.

"Guess I'm rubbing off on you too." Jean joked.

"Go to sleep."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n." Jean giggled.

She could practically hear Pan roll his eyes.


	20. For Her

(())(())(())

Unlike Jock's death, Edge's demise had become publicized by both Jean and Pan. Edge had been made an example of to show any of the lost boys and those that followed what would happen to them if they tried anything with Jean. The details of his excruciating death (including his heart being ripped out by their own maternal figure) had made them all a little nervous around Jean...at first. Then the boys had regained their trust of Jean a couple of weeks later.

She had killed one of the Lost Boys literally with her bare hands, but just as she proved to be cruel and sadistic, Jean revealed a loving, soft side. This had been proven when Devin had ventured out too deep into the waters of Mermaid Lagoon and the female fish swarmed around him.

Jean had seen the inevitable danger; at first, she had stood by to see just what would happen, but after the blonde mermaid reached out and snatched Devin's leg, Jean was on the move.

Devin held onto a boulder, his arms tightening for dear life around the stone and his face contorted in fear. He screamed in high pitch shrieks for someone to help him and while the other boys stared helplessly from the sidelines, Jean dove into the water, paddling her arms fast and hard towards Devin.

She climbed onto the boulder, and snatched the back of his cloak, pulling him up. The mermaid rose from the surface and with sharp teeth and brilliantly frightening eyes, she hissed at Jean, daring to drown the Queen of Neverland. Devin watched Jean rise to the mermaid's challenge as she retorted, her eyes brightening to pure hazel gray and all of her teeth bared as she hissed back in the same way.

Mermaids could be fearsome, but news had spread around the island about Jean's blood lust, how easily she could switch from being sweet and kind to a merciless savage. Seeing that same look in the woman's eye, the mermaid released Devin's ankle, which was covered with the bruise the shape of a hand. Jean pulled him further onto the rock, an arm raised in front of him protectively when two more mermaids had risen out of the water to try and drown Devin.

"Piss off, fish!" Jean snapped. "Or it won't just be me you have to deal with!"

The mermaids hissed again.

"You know who I'm talking about," Jean threatened. "Swim home, or you'll have to deal with *him* as well."

The mermaids growled, but they dared not trifle with the boy dressed in a green tunic. He had gone on an adventure of his own and had returned covered in their friend's scales once before; with that simple reminder, the mermaids ducked their heads into the ocean, breaking tide, and swam off.

Jean relaxed her face, closing her eyes and they had returned to their usual blue. She turned to Devin who looked absolutely terrified; seeing the mermaids nearly drown him (almost successfully if not for her intervention), and seeing Jean's maternal instincts come out like a momma bear, Devin seemed to have had all he could take for the day.

Devin flinched when Jean moved towards him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, dearest," Jean reassured softly, her voice low and soothing.

Devin watched her uncertainly, but she carefully pulled up his pant leg, wringing it out then folded it upwards; she touched his ankle, looking at him when she did so.

"Does this hurt when I do this?" Jean asked kindly, turning his foot left and right.

He shook his head.

"What about this?" Jean asked, moving his foot up and down, testing the movements of his ankle.

Devin nodded

"What about when I do this?" Jean asked, and she pushed on the bruise ever so lightly; Devin winced, inhaling sharply.

She immediately stopped when he shown signs of pain.

"Well, it's not broken at least," Jean muttered. She looked at him. "Can you swim?"

He nodded.

"Atta boy." Jean cooed, smiling at him sweetly. As he made his way into the water, Jean followed him like a mother teaching her toddler how to swim; her hand stayed on his shoulder, guiding him towards the shore when Devin cringed, keeping his moans and whimpers of agony to himself. When he reached shore, the lost boys awaiting the arrival cheered.

Jean gestured to Devin, saying, "Take him."

"I'm fine," Devin said.

"Liar." Jean teased, smirking at him. She looked at Toodles and Tock. "Take him to camp."

"I want to hunt though." Devin complained.

Jean looked at him sharply.

Devin resigned quickly saying, "Uhhhh yeah I better go to camp...yep...that's what I'm doing so let's get on with it."

Toodles and Tock did as they were told and they followed Devin to camp. Devin pretended he wasn't limping the entire time as he grumbled about having to stop playing their hunting games. Jean watched them then looked at Felix, who was smiling at her knowingly.

"What?" Jean questioned.

Felix shrugged as though he hadn't just been smirking at her, then he led the boys to a bear cave, which had originally been their destination prior to arriving for a small fishing trip in the lagoon.

Jean returned to camp, watching over Devin who insisted he was fine. When Jean pushed down on his ankle again, the boy did everything he could not to cry out, despite his face turning red, sweaty, and his teeth grinding together before he finally begged her to stop 'making it worse'. Jean gave him a look as though he had proved her point and he resolved to do what she said.

Jean had bandaged his leg. Mermaids had a strong grip and she had been surprised Devin had not suffered something more severe; the fish could break bones if they so desperately pleased. When the boys returned, appraising tales of their hunt to Jean's jealous patient, Felix stopped by her side, handing her a lily.

"What is this for?" asked Jean.

"For being our mother," said Kibbles, smiling at her sweetly. "You took care of Dev."

Dev.

Kibbles had a short name for everyone here, apparently. Felix said nothing as sweet, but he didn't have to. He touched Jean's shoulder, then he took a seat around the camp fire. The boys whooped and hollered as they readied their spears and daggers to carve a large bear's hide; while they did this, Tock and Nibs were getting the pig they'd hunted down ready to eat. Devin watched them, green with envy.

He wanted to partake in the festivities.

Annoyed, he looked at Jean.

"Why do you have to be such a mother?" asked Devin. "They're the reasons we left home in the first place."

Jean considered his question before saying anything. Devin seemed to think Jean was either ignoring him or she had not bothered to answer his question, but after a moment had passed, Jean looked at him. As she re-bandaged his leg, she spoke.

"A long time ago," she said softly, "I used to live in an orphanage. I was in and out of foster homes all my time as a child. One time, I was placed in a foster home with a man who claimed to love me."

She undid the bandage carefully, and Devin bit his lip when she ran her hand over his ankle, dreading the worst but surprised to feel her touch was softer than a feather.

"He told me he would keep me safe. He told me he would love me no matter what i did wrong, no matter how badly I behaved...or how many times i hated him for being there." Jean uttered lightly, her voice steady and calm.

She held out her hand, closed her eyes momentarily and a new strip of gauze appeared in her hand, like magic. Devin watched her, a bit intrigued, while she wrapped it around his leg. She never missed a beat.

"I left that home with the impression that he was only there to ruin my fun. He wouldn't let me talk to any boys, or do anything outside of being inside the house. I couldn't even go out to meet friends," Jean narrated with a small smile.

She looked at Devin as she tied the bandage tight so it wouldn't come undone.

Devin was interested in her story, more or less curious where she was going with it. Jean rolled down his pant leg, looking a little sentimental.

"One day, I was coming home from school." Jean said quietly. "Another man who had claimed to love me tried to touch me without my consent. Before, it had been all good fun, and I never thought anything of it. My foster dad came home and he sent the bad man away."

She smiled sadly at Devin.

"I then hated everything i ever said to him. Because at that moment, the father I never wanted, never loved, and never thought would ever love me had kept me safe from harm."

"If he did all that, then why are you sad?" asked Devin quietly.

"That was the only part of him I ever saw," said Jean softly. "An overprotective, angry little man who could defend me from everything possible but never love me in the way a mother could."

"But surely you've had other mothers." Devin said.

"That, I have." Jean returned. "And I've learned from them."

"What's the point of this story?" Devin asked.

Jean smiled saying, "You may think I'm keeping you away from your fun and games, and all you may see is my wish to protect you from fish. But I also want you boys to see that I'm not all anger, fire and brimstone. A mother disciplines her children when they've misbehaved, comforts them when they're sick..." She placed her hand gingerly on Devin's leg, "And when needed, she protects her children. Sometimes from themselves."

She moved his leg off her lap, looking at him. Jean placed her hand gingerly under Devin's chin, smiling at him with the softest of looks.

"And you, my dear boy, need my protection from yourself. You are hurt. You rest tonight. If your leg improves, you have my permission to go with the others and do only-god-knows what around here." Jean said gently.

Devin challenged her: "I don't need your permission. Just Pan's."

Jean shrugged carelessly saying, "You can tell him what you want, but I can place bets on the fact that he'll tell you the same thing."

She caressed Devin's face with the love of a mother, and smiled at him rightly so.

"Get some rest, sweetheart." Jean said.

Devin still appeared unhappy, so she held out her hand and in a second's time, a bar of chocolate appeared. Offering it to him, Jean smiled when he took it hesitantly, more than aware that it was a bribe for them to be on speaking terms again. He unwrapped it, and took a bite.

Jean stood when he appeared complacent (for now); as she turned to the fire, she saw the lost boys watching her with mixed expressions. Some even appeared jealous of Jean's attention being given to Devin. She sighed, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes as she sat in the center of the camp. She offered to tell them a story, and they all crowded around eagerly while they held fists of pork chops and fruit in their grubby hands.

Pan stood a ways from the camp, watching Jean interact with the Lost Boys through his telescope with his right hand leader, Felix, by his side. Pan lowered the scope with a content expression on his face.

"Ever wonder what kind of mother she'd really be like?" said Felix quietly as he chewed a tooth pick distractedly, watching Jean hold Kibbles in her lap as she foretold a story about a group of Indians on the other side of the Island and how they harvested plants and hunted bears, and the myths behind their lifestyle.

Pan didn't give Felix any type of reply, but he did look at him for a moment, acknowledging he had spoken.

Felix knew Pan enough, but only Jean knew of his original identity. None of the boys knew that Jean and Pan had been a mother and father at one point, or a husband and wife. Felix was no fool, though. Even the eldest lad could tell that Jean and Pan had history together; her memories had been restored and the two of them had become closer than ever.

Pan watched Jean, his eyes gazing at her tanned legs and sparkling eyes, how her hands gesticulated as she animatedly told the story about her first interaction with a vicious mermaid, and her first run-in with the deadliest plant on the island. Jean was an avid story teller, her face being expressive and the emotion and passion in her voice captivated her audience as she narrated stories of Neverland and all its glory.

"The new ones seemed to have warmed up to her quickly." Pan noted.

"They, like all of us, want a mother who will protect and love them," Felix uttered calmly. "She's good at it."

"*You* all wanted a mother," Pan reminded sternly. "I only need her."

Felix raised an eyebrow at his leader, saying pointedly, "You 'need' her?"

Pan gave him a look saying, "I doubt I need explain myself to you, Felix."

"Not necessary," said Felix, raising a hand up to Pan assuringly. "We know how much she means to you. And if we didn't before...well...after what happened with Edge, we do now."

Pan said darkly, "And you do well to remind the others that if anyone tries anything like that again, not even *she* will be able to save them. I'll make sure of that."

"If she had spared the rod," Felix said curiously, "Would you have really done as she asked?"

Almost contemptuously as though Pan hated it himself, he said, "Jean and I have something not many people could experience in twenty lifetimes, Felix. I would do anything for her happiness; I might have spared him." Pan said in the flatest but sincerest tones possible.

"Jean's emotion as a mother is her greatest strength. It also makes her weak. She may not always know what's best for her, but I do. And if it came down to it, for her happiness," He looked at Felix dead in the eyes: "I would kill all of you."

Felix whistled low at this.


	21. Playing Hard to Get

"We have five."

"Only five?"

"Yeah, should we build another?"

Jean gave Toodles a look; he turned on his heel to lead the boys into making a sixth hut. Twenty-two boys were just too many for only five huts, the lot of them talking loudly and getting on each other's nerves. With six, that would be enough room for all of them to have their own space without being crowded.

"We need stronger wood," said Cricket.

"Pixie Woods," suggested Tock.

They set forth to gather strong wood from there, and took a few more boys with them in any case a hungry bear lurked in there somewhere. Jean reminded them that they would be having Game Night tonight. The boys roared methodically and whooped happily, high fiving each other; Jean looked after them, her hands busy with patching up Kibbles' shirt, which had torn when he'd wandered too far from camp and had a small run in with the dreamshade thorns; luckily, his shirt had received the bite.

Meanwhile, the rest of the gang were tying swinging ropes to trees, creating another camp fire, juggling apples and sweet tarts, or arguing about who the better hunter was, and who could make the most jokes, and who was the loudest when it came to belching.

Kibbles remained still, standing in front of Jean per the queen's request but occasionally, he would tug away, lured in by the gaggle of laughter and chaos brought on by the boys in front of them. Jean tugged him back slightly, her tone bringing him back to obedience. As she finished, Jean held out the string of his shirt and then bit it. Kibbles leapt away immediately, running over to join the boys who were in the middle of a contest that would determine who could juggle the most apples.

Jean felt a pair of hands touch her arms then move up her shoulders, a touch too familiar that it could only be Peter Pan for no one else dared touch her in the same fashion. She didn't look back, only pretended that she didn't feel his fingers along the nape of her neck and then shortly replaced by his lips as he ever so lightly made their contact along her skin. So lightly that Jean wasn't even certain he had.

Jean felt like playing hard-to-get, and played hard she did for when she saw his hands move from her shoulders to her waist, Jean smirked and stood to her feet, walking away to 'fetch' more firewood. She glanced behind her to see Pan looking after her, a sheepish grin fixed on his face for he knew Jean was playing with him.

There was the slightest blush of her cheeks and the way her eyes dilated with lust and love whenever she even so much as felt his presence...and, boy, did she do the same thing to him.

Jean moved throughout the forest, actually picking up firewood. Playing hard-to-get could actually turn into a real chore, she thought as she picked up a scrap of the timber, cradling it in her arms. As she came lumbering back, she threw the small logs onto the roaring camp fire, chuckling when she saw Pan on the ground, legs crossed at the ankle, his arms stretched out on the largest branch of a tree possible while he watched her. That relaxed disposition, that simple way he sat practically taunted her.

Jean moved towards him, her body standing before him and he slowly looked at her, his eyes staring at her pretty tanned legs and up her body until he met her eyes. The fire behind Jean would have left a shadow on Pan, had it not been for the fact her own had gone on vacation. She smirked when Pan's smug smile was replaced by a slightly less dominant one, a more submissive exchange.

Jean watched him carefully, those dark green eyes of his admiring her. Something in them lit up like a flame as he slowly rose to his knees, and that smile was back. It was knowing, and almost expectant.

She recognized that look.

"What are you contemplating?" Jean questioned lowly, her voice almost drowned out by the loud, whooping bellows further from the campfire of boys having a damn good time at throwing apples at one another.

Pan took her hands in his, the tips of his thumbs grazed over the back of her knuckles, then he stood wordlessly to his feet. He gently pulled her to him, and Jean bit her lip curiously when Pan guided her to a boulder that normally served to be his throne.

A throne fit for a boy who never grew up, and was the king of Neverland. Guided by his hand, Jean slowly sat on the throne, exhaling a small breath of a laugh when he stood on his knees in front of her. Jean knew he had something in mind, something different, and the suspense of just not KNOWING what that was made Jean a little giddy.

Pan was unpredictable. She loved him this way.

"What are you...Hm..." Jean began but the moment she had started to ask her pending question, Pan interrupted it with a kiss.

It was different than what Jean was accustomed to. It wasn't hard, or rough, or the slightest bit hungry. It was quite the opposite. Soft. Gentle...smooth, his lips on hers slowly deepening the kiss when his tongue licked her lower lip. Asking for an invitation. Asking...for *her* permission.

Not that he needed it.

While one side of Jean's brain turned gears about the kiss, the other half became quite entranced as Pan's hands held the outside of her thighs, his fingertips placing pressure as he moved them down her skirt.

He suddenly grabbed her knees, making Jean jump and giggle slightly, but immediately pulled her back into another slow, tantalizingly soft kiss.

It was so different. Jean didn't complain; she liked it almost as much as the rough, hungry, passion kiss fights they had in the past, but the 'why now' seemed to be the more important question. Although that might come later as Jean felt the desire that had started in her belly become twisted in knots and find its way down to the center of her deepest core.

The kissing didn't stop, and Jean felt her mind jumping from one hot steaming scenario to another wild roller coaster, thinking of all the things they could do, have done, and possibly would do in the nearest future. Her heart raced and pumped erratically when Pan moved his hands back up her thighs, but this time, they were under her skirt. Jean startled when he grabbed her innermost thighs just as he had done with her knees.

"Why do you keep doing that!" Jean exclaimed, feeling both on edge and aroused simultaneously.

"I like your reaction," Pan returned. That familiar smirk was on his face.

"It's hard to relax when I think you're going to do that again," Jean pointed out.

He leaned into her, their faces close enough to touch, their lips in distance to kiss and Jean felt the magnetism of it drawing her in again. Pan smirked at her when he saw Jean's eyes glimpse his mouth with the image of it.

"Maybe what I want is for you not to relax," Pan told her.

As before, he grabbed her thighs again, and Jean jumped; she hissed, pushing away.

"You're unbearable," Jean mewed.

"And you're playing hard-to-get," Pan returned knowingly.

Jean rolled her eyes, looking away from him and at the children who were now going back and forth with the game of 'would you rather'.

Pan remained in front of her, still sitting on his knees. He smiled when Jean glanced at him, her arms crossed in a huff.

"What?" Jean questioned.

"You know you are really adorable when you try to look angry," Pan noted.

"I'm not angry."

"I can tell."

"Did you want me to be angry?" asked Jean.

Pan shrugged, indifferent to the fact. He straightened, his smile returning as he got to his feet; Jean looked up at him, her eyes meeting his.

Jean smirked. She made a gesture for him to come closer, and he did. Jean lifted her hands to his belt, and Pan's eyebrows raised inquisitively when she began undoing his belt, and lowering his pants just enough where Jean moved forward and with his erection out and about, she took all of him into her mouth.

Shocked but ultimately pleased, Pan hadn't completely kept his bearing; he let out an involuntary moan, and the act nearly left him breathless. He inhaled sharply when she had started sucking gently, her tongue moving around his cock like a little girl savoring a cherry lollipop.

Jean was just as unpredictable.

And he loved her that way.

"You're awfully enthusiastic," Pan mumbled in a tone that was a mixture of amusement, satisfaction, and fundamental happiness.

Their public display of affection had definitely skipped several levels. Pan glanced across the camp, noting that the boys had transitioned from the playing of apple juggling to daggers. Pan lowered his gaze to Jean, who had begun deep throating his cock; to gain an easier leverage, Jean dropped from the throne and now stood on her knees; her hands clenched Pan's hips.

Jean could bring Pan all the way to the brink of insanity at the level of determination she had for making him come. What she loved most about it was not just feeling his hands entangling in her hair as they did now, but hearing the sounds and moans that encouraged her further.

That was her motivation. To please her King.

"Keep going, baby," Pan panted.

Jean could hear his voice straining; she glanced up to see his lips parted in what could only be described as pure elation; his eyes were closed, and every part of him grew tense.

She knew what he wanted. She knew what he needed. Jean softly moaned, the smallest sound creating vibrations from the walls of her mouth to the thrusting cock down her throat. Jean inwardly smirked when she felt her hair being pulled even harder as Pan clenched his fingers into fists.

Then Jean stopped. She backed off, and then Pan stared at her, perplexed and honestly, more annoyed than ever. Jean licked her lips and smirked.

"Why the hell..." Pan began.

Jean smirked wickedly, saying, "I just like seeing your reaction."

Hearing his words sheepishly repeated towards him, Pan glared at her. Then the tables changed.

He caught her wrist, pulling her to him. Pan moved his hand in one gesture above them and a poof of dark red smoke surrounded them; Jean lost her bearing and she fell, but instead, she landed on something soft...their bed.

Pan had just poofed them in the treehouse.

Lying on her stomach, Jean rolled onto her back, just in time to see Pan advance towards her; she grinned darkly, seeing his tense and heated expression on his face.

"Not so fun, is it?" Jean taunted.

"Jean."

"Peter." Jean returned, grinning again when she saw him look most annoyed.

Pan growled; he tackled her, so her back hit the bed promptly, and she felt her dress being ripped off her body. Her smugness slackened when Jean watched him get on the bed, sitting on his knees as he quickly pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it behind him. Jean smirked when he did the same with everything else until he was completely naked before her.

He spared no time to move her underwear down her legs. He moved in between, roughly separating her thighs.

"What if i say 'no'," Jean challenged.

Pan smirked, saying, "We both know you won't."

As a point, he pressed the tip of his cock against the swollen, pink flesh of her pussy, and the moment he did, Jean unwilingly let out a whimper when desire tugged at her.

Jean sat up, and persuaded Pan with the same kind of soft gentle, unnaturally slow, kiss that he had played on her. The kiss lingered, and Jean could feel him wanting to kiss her back.

Instead, Pan simply looked at her. She could play his game. And win. just when he thought he had the victory in hand, Jean was able to slide it out of the palm of his hand within seconds.

God, how he loved her.

She leaned towards him to capture him in another kiss, but he leaned back, smirking at her when Jean looked at him reproachfully.

She nuzzled his neck with her nose like a kitten buttering up its owner.

Jean whispered, "You can play hard-to-get all you want, your Highness, but we both know how this will end."

Sitting up, Jean smiled at him innocently. But behind that sweet face, Pan knew was a titillating, deviant little girl who could persuade him to do anything she wished. A bad little girl.

"What if I needed more persuasion?" Pan returned lowly, his voice hoarse.

"I could provide you with the right motivation," Jean returned.

She kissed him again, leading him into another slow dance of tongues that transfixed him; Pan could be so distracted though. He felt one of Jean's hands stroking his cock, which hardened even more when he saw Jean's other hand on her sex, playing with herself.

Jean and Pan didn't stop their little game even when they heard Kibbles scream "PAAAAAAAN! TOCk Stabbed MEEEEE"

Pan sighed, annoyed; sometimes the lost boys could be a real downside to Neverland.

"Ignore them." Jean dismissed. She pushed Pan on his back, and he smirked as she mounted him.

Her body aligned with his as she lowered herself onto him; Jean licked his cheek in her own territorial way, and nibbled his ear lobe; she whispered in such a low, sultry voice that made Pan's skin tingle: "You can be a father to them another time; right now, you're *my* daddy."

Pan met her hungry kiss with equal passion and fervor, both responding with a groan of sexual frustration but equal amounts of pleasure at the suspense. Getting there was half the fun, and the two of them knew it.

Her hands pulled on the back of his hair, tilting his head back. Jean kissed his throat and he let out a strained moan when her lower body began grinding against his fully erect member. The heat of her pussy beckoned to him, and her slick opening was a tease.

"MOOOOM!"

The kids were starting to get rambunctious. After all, Pan and Jean had promised them Game Night.

"Jean..."

"Hush." Jean commanded.

Pan heard the order, and he looked impressed, which then dissolved into pleasure when she slid herself down his body; Jean kissed his chest, his stomach, leaving a trail of wet fire down his body; Pan moaned when he felt her mouth enclose around his cock again.

"Don't stop this time." Pan told her; while he had intended it to sound just as commanding, it came out more as a plea than a demand.

She met his eyes. The entire time. Jean held him down when things started getting heated between the two of them, her hands pushing his chest back down as he started to tense inside her mouth. Her fingernails grazed down his stomach, barely leaving any scratches but leaving Pan wishing she had.

"PAAAAAAN!"

"MOOOOOM!"

Jean rolled her eyes at the same moment Pan had.

"Get up here," Pan growled, snatching Jean's shoulders and moving her off him.

Jean grinned when he turned her on her back, and without needing an introduction, Pan shoved himself inside of her. They both moaned in thanks for his immediate action, and just as her body adjusted to him, his thrusts evolved from mechanically slow to those of a faster rhythm and depth.

"Harder," Jean begged, "I want all of you."

Pan pulled out of Jean, then in one motion had her lie on her stomach. Lifting her hips, Pan then thrusted inside her tight, swollen pussy, the heat surrounding him completely and her body contracting against him with his entry.

"Damn it, Jean..." Pan muttered. Sometimes Jean impressed him without ever meaning to.

Jean stood on her hands and knees as Pan moved in and out of her, doing just as she had requested; he went hard. He was rough. And ruthless. He held nothing back.

And Jean liked it that way.

Pan then took a handful of her hair and yanked it back; Jean's entire body moved back so she now stood on her knees, slighted at an angle so he was still permitted to thrust inside of her.

Jean's moans were constant, and varied upon volume. Pan placed one hand along her neck, his fingers aligned with her throat and his thumb along her jaw as he tilted her head back to hear her praise more clearly; the back of her head rested on his shoulder. The other moved to her sex, his middle finger circling her clit slowly then quickly, varying the speed on the rate of Jean's vocal response.

Her body shook against him as she came hard and strong, the tide of orgasms made her body tremble and ripple moans from her lips.

"Come inside me," Jean begged shakily.

Pan held her hip and his hand around her throat tightened; he smirked when she appeared most pleased, that twisted smile of hers widening.

"When I do," Pan grunted, "You're going to come again."

Jean uttered, "Is that a fact...?"

Pan bit her neck, hard enough that it made her both whimper in pain but to Jean's most twisted sexual pleasure, it made her smile.

Pan then thrusted inside of her so hard that Jean did as he said; just as he relinquished his release, Jean experienced her own. She fell on her stomach, her body responding to the intense orgasm; Pan lowered himself onto her, experiecing his own.

In their heap of moans, Pan's hand laid on top of jean's, and their fingers interlaced as they felt the intensity slowly fade, and the two could finally breathe a sigh of deep relaxation; panting, sweaty, but very relaxed.

Groaning quietly, Jean rolled on her back, smiling at Pan. He smiled at her too. Then he grabbed her knee again and made Jean jump.

"What the fuck, Peter!"

Pan chuckled tiredly, still very much amused by her reaction. Jean shook her head, but smiled when he licked her cheek as she'd done to him countless times. Then they kissed just as gently and passionately as they had kissed before which turned into another fiesty battle in her mouth.

And Pan liked it that way.

"MOOOOM! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

Jean sighed tiredly.

"I better go." Jean mumbled.

She didnt move.

Pan chuckled.

Jean started getting dressed, muttering, "I don't want to adult tonight."

Pan smirked, dressing as well. He took her hand, pulling her to him; she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he kissed her forehead.

"Let's get this Game Night out of the way, then it can be just the two of us tonight." Pan told her. "Alright?"

"Fine," Jean complied.

She smiled when his hands on her lower back dropped below to grope her butt.

"That's my girl," Pan drawled

Jean beamed.


	22. Game Night The Bridge

A/N (Aug 12, 2016): Finally have a laptop now, so I am going back to edit for grammatical errors!

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Jean had everything planned for the most part. The game itself was easy to think up: it was an obstacle course, although not a very easy one. It consisted of the usual perils: mermaids, pirates, yada, yada, yada. Frankly, Jean had felt unimpressed by it.

She was contemplating in the silence in Neverland's shores while the other boys readied their weapons, sharpening their hunting spears, and the like. They didn't know what Jean was planning, but knowing the Queen...well, they knew it was big.

After taking some time to herself in the ocean, she came back, twisting her hair to wring out the water; she looked stunning as the camp fire's light brought out her softest traits, and the darkest ones too. One of them was her mischievous smile.

Pan looked at Jean with a knowing smile. Apparently, Jean had figured out what was missing from the trade.

"I know that look," Pan stated, getting up from his placement on his throne to saunter over to her. "You're up to no good."

"You're right." She admitted, brushing her soaked tangled locks from her face and pulling it back into a high ponytail. "I know what I want to add to the game to make it more of a challenge."

"We already have to steal the royal headdress from Tiger Lily," muttered Tock unhappily. "What could be more challenging than that?"

"Don't be a girl," scolded Toodles. "Tiger Lily isn't the one you gotta worry about. It's her father."

Devin shrugged saying, "I thought we had to worry about all of them, personally. They like their crowns."

"It's not a crown," corrected the Twins simultaneously. "It's a *head dress*."

Devin rolled his eyes, saying, "Well, it's a crown in other cultures."

"We're not talking about other cultures," pointed out Felix, and to redirect the conversation, he added slyly, "We're not talking about any of that, really. Jean...as you were saying?"

"Than you, Felix. As I was saying before all of you got on a tangent about fashion," Jean mused, smirking when the boys all smiled guiltily, "I added something to the end. Something every one of you will have to see when you get there."

"What is it?" asked Tock.

"What is it?" asked Slightly, moving forward. "Hope it's..."

"A chocolate fountain," said Nibs.

"Why would it be a chocolate fountain?" asked Cricket.

"Yeah," said Tin (or Jonathan, which he hardly preferred), "That's not a challenge at all."

"Eating all of it before you do would be a right big challenge," reminded Nibs. "It's mine by the way if we see one."

"Who said you could call Dibs?" declared Cricket.

"Because I thought of it first."

"Really?" questioned Cricket.

"Yeah."

"What if I wanted the chocolate fountain."

Jean rolled her eyes, looking at Pan for help. Pan leaned into her and said, "I'll take care of it."

Jean smiled sweetly at him, and he winked back at her. Then with the familiar voice of authority that Jean so dearly loved, Pan stood in the center and spoke loudly enough for all to hear, "Okay, enough!"

The boys stopped arguing, turning to him.

"You should know better this game isn't going to be easy," Pan told them coolly. "If you don't know, now you will learn." He smirked back at Jean, who grinned back at him.

He looked at the lot.

"This game is going to test everything you have. Your wit, your strength...even your sense of humor." Pan chuckled. "Personally, I dont even know what's waiting at the end, but she knows just how much I love guessing games, so far be it from to me to ruin the surprise."

"But Pan, how will we know what it is when we get there?" Devin asked, walking forward. "How will we know it's part of the obstacle course and not some freak accident that always happens in Neverland?"

Pan licked his lips for a second, then he looked at Jean to answer the question.

"You will know it when we get there," said Jean dangerously. "It'll be so obvious, you'll even wonder why you even doubted me in the first place."

She began to lead them through the forest, the entrance of the jungle beckoning for its first challenge. Pan strode beside her.

"I hope it's as gut-wrenching as you're leading us all to believe," Pan told her quietly.

Jean giggled lowly, looking at him with a glint of adventure in her eyes, saying, "Do I hear a little skepticism coming out of you, Peter?"

Pan smirked at Jean's playfulness, but he remained quite serious.

"You've known me quite awhile, Peter Pan. I thought I would have earned your trust a long time ago," Jean mused.

Pan shrugged, saying, "Oh, trust me. You have it."

"Then why the doubt?" Jean returned, her voice was light-hearted. She brushed a hand over the top of her head, preventing her face from getting smacked by branches.

Pan ducked under one when the branch flew back; it missed him, and then smacked Felix in the face. The boys behind Felix burst into laughter as Felix grunted and then spit out a few leaves. Jean glanced back, suppressing her laughter.

Pan stepped over a fallen tree, then held out to take Jean's hand; she rolled her eyes but played the role of a fragile, delicate flower, taking Pan's palm so she ever so gently stepped over the log.

"You've come up with a lot more dangerous, fun games in the past," Pan said. "Somehow they become more and more challenging over time, and..."

Jean cut him off: "So you think this one won't rise to the challenge?"

"Maybe I do think that," Pan returned.

"Then you're in for a surprise." Jean promised. "Even you may fail at this game."

"That's impossible."

"Why's that?"

"Peter Pan never fails," Pan said smugly.

"And I never disappoint," Jean responded smartly.

Pan watched Jean continue to walk on, looking after her with a mixture of admiration and suspicion.

Heading up the rear was Kibbles, who was breathlessly striding to keep up with the others. He was small for his age (7), and his little legs had a hard time keeping up. In front of him was Slightly, who he begged to slow down so he wouldn't get left behind. Slightly dismissed him, trying to keep up with the head of the pack for Jean walked a lot faster than the crowd was used to, and her speed had not slackened since their departure.

That was, until they had stopped at a canyon of some sort.

The canyon dropped a great deal of feet, and it was headed off by a large bridge. This bridge was narrow, and would only fit one foot at a time. It stretched from the edge of the cliff, to the other, and the distance between them was frighteningly far. Yet, close enough one could see the other side.

"What the hell...where did this come from?" asked Slightly, staring at the distance and then he had the nerve to look down, wishing immediately he'd not chanced it. He threw himself back when he thought there was a moment he might have fallen.

The boys all held equal amounts of confusion, including Pan, who stepped to the edge of the cliff, his gaze following the bridge across, then downwards to an unknown distance to the darker depths of jungle. He looked at Jean slowly.

"I have never seen this before," Felix said. "And I've been all around this island."

"I've never seen it either," said Pan quietly, still looking at Jean.

"That's because it was never here." Jean returned calmly. She walked to the edge of the cliff, the beginning of the bridge, which was held by long ropes suspended by the ever climbing trees above. The instability of it made the stomach of every Lost Boy quake uneasily.

Kibbles whimpered.

"In Neverland, all you have to do is think of it and it will appear," Jean said, quoting Pan's words (Pan smiled at her reference). "This bridge, you see, is no different."

Pan was impressed. It was great feat to summon cakes, or jewelry or anything like that in your hand after thinking about it. Creating a bridge on the other hand, that took some time.

Jean had been practicing magic. As though knowing Pan recognized it, Jean simply smiled at him.

She turned around to look at them, her bright blue eyes searching all of them.

"Anyone afraid of heights?" Jean asked.

Kibbles raised his hand.

"Well, sorry about your luck, son. This bridge is about to teach you how to conquer your fears. And if you had none before, well...I'm sure once you're through with my game, you will have at least one."

"And what should we fear?" asked Tock cheekily.

Jean looked at Tock, who was leaning on his spear with the increased arrogance of a self-assured huntsman. How he managed to obtain such a level of cocky fortitude, Jean never understood, but she reckoned this was the moment he could somehow 'prove' himself to her. Tock still liked Jean...so did Devin, although the latter had become more drawn to Jean as a mother figure since her rescue of him from the catty mermaids.

"You'll see." Jean told him.

"We've passed your games before," stated Tock, clicking his tongue a few times. "We'll do it again. I'll do it again."

Pan watched Tock look at Jean with a familiar toothy grin, the cheeky child trying to give Jean one of his flirtatious winks. Pan chuckled when Jean rolled her eyes. She gestured to the bridge.

"Well, if you're so sure of yourself, darling, you can be the first to cross."

Tock lost all motivation to impress the lovely girl dressed in a flowing black dress and bare shoulders.

"Confidence can start a fight," said Jean lazily, "But it cannot end one. Your fight is this bridge. Off you go."

"I don't..."

"Move!" Pan and Jean both ordered.

Tock cursed under his breath but he placed his stick over his shoulders and moved through the pack of scared little boys. Jean smiled at Tock, who nervously attempted to smile back but it looked more like a grimace than a smile of one who was in charge.

"I suggest you move quickly," Jean advised. "The bridge stands as long as your self-confidence holds up; so you might want to grow some balls, or you're going to go down with it."

Tock squeaked, his face contorting into an expression of fear and dread; on his face, the expression was humorous.

The Lost Boys, Jean, and Pan watched Tock place his foot on the bridge. He stood there for a while.

"I'd like to say we have all the time in the world," Pan mused, "but we have the rest of the game to do, so I suggest you get a move on."

Tock whimpered, then he made an inhuman sound when the bridge shook slightly as Tock placed the last foot on its uneven panels.

"What happens if we lose our bearing?" asked Felix slowly, watching Tock side-step his way across the bridge.

"Is it not obvious?" asked Jean softly.

She smirked as she looked down at the ever winding jungle beneath, where only the tops of the trees could be seen and nothing more.

Kibbles answered quietly, "You die."


	23. A Fair Chance At Winning

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Tock was halfway across the bridge, and surprisingly hadn't had any tumbles. While he balanced his emotions from sheer terror and the confidence of a sure victory, the other boys were bracing themselves.

They all sat on the grass and closed their eyes, some of them muttering "I have confidence, I have confidence, I have confidence". While the other half whispered, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, I'm dead, oh shit, oh hell, I'm dead."

Pan, who was the most cocky of the bunch, had no prayers to offer, for he looked across the bridge with not an ounce of fear in his eyes. He stood with his arms crossed casually over his chest, his eyes on Tock.

Jean had unraveled her hair from the pony tail and was in the process of braiding it. She was humming a song unknown to him as she did so, and Pan looked at her momentarily when the softest of her notes held onto his ears.

The girl could play a lullaby on his flute (no sex pun intended). She could conjure a bridge out of thin air. Jean could make games fun and playful, or dangerous as dreamshade (which Pan was sure the plant was involved in this riveting fun). And her voice could hum the softest and lowest of notes, and sound so alluring like a siren baiting a sailor to crash his ship against the pointy rocks of the fantoms below.

If Pan never felt that Jean was his True Love, he did now.

She was perfect.

Jean felt eyes on her and she looked up to see Pan watching her. That look was very familiar and Jean imagined what it would be like to fuck him on the bridge. The thing would hold since the two of them were as confident as...as...well both of them were very self-assured. It was hard for the narrator to describe just how confident the two of them were together.

Jean and Pan looked at one another, both smiling as they thought of what they wanted to do to each other. And their eye contact (and dirty thoughts) were interrupted when Tock screamed.

The other Lost Boys, hearing their comrade's shriek, stood up frantically and saw Tock holding onto the bridge with his dear life, his hands clenching on the floor board as his spear fell down to the darkest jungle below. He was thrashing his legs, trying not to fall, but also trying to get a grip for the more he screamed, the more unstable the bridge became.

"GET A DAMN GRIP AND MOVE!" shouted Slightly. "The damn thing only stands because you somehow have some fucking confidence, now get moving!"

"GO TOCK GO!" shouted the other boys.

Pan watched Tock shimmy up the bridge and he practically ran to the other side. The boy tossed himself the last few feet, gripping and kissing the lush green grass below him. The other boys cheered, and Jean smirked.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Jean called over.

"Fuck you, you bitch!" Tock cried.

Jean giggled. She turned around.

"Who's next?"

Kibbles shakily stepped forward.

"I...I wanna go next."

"You don't sound so sure of yourself, laddie," Pan noted. "Maybe you'd like to wait?"

Kibbles poofed out his chest more and put his hands on his hips saying loudly, "I am going next."

This time, Pan waved his hand to the bridge, giving Kibbles the 'go' to walk across the bridge next. Kibbles swallowed, but his throat was so dry, the task of doing that alone seemed tremendously difficult.

He muttered to himself, "For Mother..." and he started over the bridge.

Pan looked at Jean.

"What do you suppose gave him such a boost?" asked Pan knowingly.

Jean smiled at him, saying, "He's 7. He doesn't want to let his mommy down."

"You're not his mother," Pan reminded.

"Closest thing to it, though." Jean reminded in return.

Pan looked up at the sky, sighing, as though trying to hold back a scoff. More out of respect for Jean, if anything. He would slice a boy's throat without a second's thought, but respecting Jean...his queen of Neverland, and Malcolm's wife...well, that seemed more important to him.

Jean seemed to recognize it, and she kissed his cheek. Pan looked surprise. She didn't explain the reason for her affectionate gesture; she simply looked at the boys and asked who would be after him.

"Me." Slightly said. "If that little baby can get past this bridge, I know I can."

"He's 7," reminded Felix.

"What? No, I was talking about Tock," Slightly stated, gesturing his hand over the bridge to point out that Tock was still crying loudly, an exaggerated volume at that.

Felix looked at Pan, who tilted his head to the bridge; as though hearing the silent suggestion, Felix stepped forward and said he'd go after Slightly. Hearing the eldest boy of the group approach the challenge, the others followed suit.

Felix smiled, chewing on his tooth pick and Pan nodded his approval to Felix. Jean turned to see Kibbles already half way down the bridge.

"Wanna really make this game interesting," Felix muttered to Pan.

"Tell me." Pan answered.

Felix didn't tell him. Instead, he took hold of the bridge with his hands and then shook it violently. The unstable foundation swayed, and Kibbles screamed, holding his footing, but looking back in alarm.

"Stop it, Felix!" Kibbles whined. "STAAAWWWWWWP!"

He fumbled, and stumbled, and held onto the bridge with his legs and arms, appearing to be an ape holding onto a tree branch.

Pan and Felix laughed, but Jean looked infuriated.

She punched Felix in the face, and he went down.

"Gah! Damn it, Jean, it was just a joke!" Felix stated, rubbing his jaw.

Jean glared at him saying, "I may have come up with some of the most dangerous obstacles you could possibly hope to accomplish, but I have given _every_ one of you a fair chance."

She glared at Pan, who looked at her as though he was innocent in all of this.

Pan rolled his eyes. Damn it. Now he was really in the dog house this time.

As Kibbles quickly found his bearing and (crying with good reason) tripped towards the other side, Jean looked at Felix and ordered him to go next.

"But I was-" Slightly began forward in objection, but Devin pulled him back as Jean glared at him.

"No, No, no," Devin muttered.

"You're next." Jean said.

"Jean..." began Pan.

"Shut up, _you_." Jean snapped angrily, turning on Pan. "You want to play games, huh? You can play mine, but we're playing it MY way, and under MY rules."

Pan gave her a look as though clearly affronted by her overruling him.

He stepped towards her.

"Jean, it was a joke." Pan stated pointedly. "That's all. I'd have done it to you or Felix. No one would have gotten hurt." Although it sounded as though this was the unfortunate part.

"I don't care," Jean snarled. "It was _mean_."

"You've killed boys," Pan reminded. "How is this mean?"

"Don't argue with me." Jean told him quietly. "You know what you did. What Felix did was not fair to any of us. If we're going to play this game, we do it my way, and that's giving everyone a fair shot at winning."

"We all know who wins these games," Devin muttered.

"Pan does," Slightly said.

"Because Peter Pan never fails," Felix said, chuckling, although he still rubbed his face a little as the stinging hadn't stopped.

Jean made a scathing noise, irritation eating away at her. She threw her hands up in the air.

"I'll meet you on the other side," said Jean.

Pan moved to catch her hand, to pull her back so they could talk it out, but she dodged him. Jean glared at him.

" _We'll talk later_." Jean said.

Pan sighed deeply, feeling a bit irate with Jean, but none the less obeying her wishes. It would not serve him to play a game made by a woman who was not only as dangerous as he but now also incredibly agitated.

Not even he would be that arrogant to play with that kind of fire.

Jean crossed the bridge easily. For her, it was as stable as the Golden Gate. It might as well have been metal and big enough to hold two lanes of cars for she didn't even flinch or stumble as she crossed the bridge. After her, Felix was next. Then Slightly. Then the others.

Pan was last, and he crossed with the same elegance as Jean. When he had stepped to the edge, and found his sure footing, Jean had seemingly calmed down enough to venture forward. However, she didn't even so much as smile at him as she instructed Felix to lead them to the next obstacle.

"Where's that?" asked Felix, indicating the location of the aforementioned obstacle.

"Would you like to know what stealing from a pack of angry Indians is like?" asked Jean coolly.

"Not really," said Tock.

"Not necessarily," answered the Twins together.

"Kinda," offered Devin.

Jean smirked at Devin. She patted his back, saying to the rest of the crew, "See that? That's the enthusiasm I like to hear."

Devin beamed brightly and followed Jean towards the Indian camp.

"So what happens when you steal a valuable headdress of an Indian princess?" asked Cricket curiously.

"Well, Indians don't take lightly to theft," said Slightly nervously. "And Tiger Lily is to them..."

"...What Jean is to us," finished Felix.

Cricket gave one of his low whistles, shaking his head.

"Great..." Tock muttered. "We're all gonna fucking **die**."


	24. Forgiveness

Indians. Redskins. Barbarians. Savages.

Most of those terms were racial slurs, and some of them were far from being correct, at least when it pertained to the friendly group of Indians. While the Indians could be known for their barbaric nature, they were only ever after the Pirates who raided their homeland; sometimes, the Lost Boys were caught in the cross fire. There was a bit of a cycle that took place on Neverland.

The Indians searched for the Pirates. The Pirates hunted the Lost Boys. The Lost Boys searched for Peter Pan. Peter Pan searched for the Heart of the Truest Believer (and when he wasn't looking for it, he sought out Jean to keep tabs on her so nothing of danger would ever come to her). And Jean was a hunter for all the above.

Being that Peter Pan and the Indian Chief, He-Who-Leads (although the Indian name itself was almost ten syllables long), had a treaty between the Lost Boys and the Tribe, the games would still involve the folk. The Indians were sporty, playful by all means; they enjoyed Pan's games so as long as the King played fair. Sometimes taking hostages was part of the fun, and other times, there could be the danger of a barbecue but between the tribe and the boys, it was always for sport.

Jean, who had conversed with Tiger Lily plenty of times in the past, had a mutual respect for the Indian Princess, just as Tiger Lily held the same respect for Pan's little bird. As long as the Indians dared not slaughter any of Jean's 'children', Jean would not attack any of the Indians, or threaten the life of the beautiful daughter of He-Who-Leads.

Needless to say, they had an understanding.

Long before the game had begun, about the time when Jay had still been alive, Jean had been planning. She had already spoken to the Chief about the aforementioned game involving the theft of the sacred headdress. Unknown to any of the players, including Pan, the Indians were already on high alert. This had been Jean's way of making the game more interesting.

The walk to the camp was a half day's stride, so the lot camped for the night. After the excitement and terror of crossing an unstable bridge, the gang was exhausted, and ready to relax. Jean's first obstacle had been an eye opener; the true challenge was keeping an open mind to the scarier courses ahead.

The boys put up their tents and cots; Tock and Slightly collected dry wood from around the clearing. Their cots surrounded the fire in order to warm their bodies as the Neverland season had become quite cool, enough to send a chill from time to time.

Jean stood on the outside of the camp site, her arms crossed and her eyes brilliantly lit by the full moon. There was a hard expression on her face, and it didn't soften even when she felt a pair of hands caress the sides of her shoulders.

And lips touched the nape of her neck in a sweet kiss.

"You wanted to talk?" Pan asked from behind her; he pulled her hair aside onto one shoulder so he could kiss the top of the other one.

Jean pulled away, turning around to look at him. Pan looked disappointed.

"Yes." She said coldly.

Pan gestured to her, saying, "Then let's talk."

Jean lowered her arms, but she remained quite icy.

"You know my rules for my games, Peter." Jean stated sternly. "You know how I feel about cheating."

"This again?" Pan inquired calmly. "I told you, babe. Felix was just playing with Kibbles. Even if the lad fell off the bridge, i would have caught him. He was in no danger."

" _He_ didn't know that," Jean returned heatedly. She stepped towards him. "You and Felix call it a joke; I call it 'cheating'. How about you go on the bridge and I shake things up for you. Huh?"

Pan looked at her incredulously.

"You know, you're being a little over zealous about safety these days," Pan pointed out.

"This is my game," Jean reminded. "My rules count for something. I'll give everyone a fair shot at winning, but not if you all are going to ruin that. It'd be no different if I told you to race to Deadman's peak and I shot you in the knee."

Pan chuckled, saying, "The boy crossed the bridge easier than any of them; you're overreacting."

"And you're underreacting."

"That's not even a word."

"It doesn't have to be." Jean replied, crossing her arms. "Play by my rules, Peter Pan, or this game is finished before it **ever** started."

"Did you know your neck turns red when you get angry?" Pan asked pointedly.

Jean glared at him. Pan sighed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Fine." He said calmly. "Fine. You know...you're right." He moved towards her, taking a few steps towards Jean.

She narrowed her eyes as though having grown suspicious of Pan; he was never so quick to agree with her.

"We will play by your rules." Pan promised. He placed his hand on her shoulders, the material of her dress being massaged between his fingers as he admired Jean's work.

"You have to promise me."

"Are you telling me that my word means nothing at this moment?" Pan asked.

Jean smirked saying, "Action is more my speed. Besides, as lovely as your words can be, you can't do much else with that tongue of yours than spin words of silver."

"Oh, I can reassure you, that's not all I can do with my tongue," Pan drawled, smirking at her.

Jean bit her lip shortly before he kissed her, licking her bottom lip for a forgiving entry and he overtook her tongue with his. There was a small battle inside her mouth for dominance, and as it continued, Pan moved his hands from Jean's shoulders to her thighs, his fingertips applying pressure to their innermost softness before sliding under her dress.

Jean felt his fingers thread the sides of her panties between them and they slid the material down her legs. Jean watched him lower himself to the floor, standing on his knees.

It seemed as though he was still asking Jean for forgiveness after their argument, although Jean had already granted him such a mercy. Below her, Pan had brought her panties down to her ankles and Jean lifted one foot at at time so they were pulled off completely. Jean glanced across some twenty feet away where the Lost Boys told their own experience at the Bridge, and she was immediately distracted when Jean felt Pan pull the hem of her dress above her stomach; his mouth kissed her inner thigh.

"Mmmm..." Jean hummed quietly, a small smile appearing on her lips as she closed her eyes, embracing the softest and smallest of pleasures openly.

Pan's hands caressed the back of Jean's thighs, and Jean felt herself nearly become a puddle of joy when she felt his mouth on her clit, his tongue moving over the small bundle of nerves.

Just as he had reassured her, he could definitely do more with his tongue than she remembered. Jean was the sole witness of this.

She moaned quietly when Pan slid his tongue inside of her pussy, and she was vaguely aware that he was spelling something. Her curiosity was the only thing keeping Jean completely alert of this as she made out the word "Mine" and then she lost herself to his whims.

Jean looked down to see him kissing her sex, his eyes closed as he was in the moment too. Jean moved her hands in his hair, her fingers running through it with a softness.

 _Damn, he was good_.

Jean was starting to climb though, her body craving more. Pan felt her body tense, the way her body reacted to him each time he licked her clit; the way her moans became accented in quiet, restrained whimpers when he tasted her.

She was so sensitive to his every touch, and he could hear Jean getting impatient. He looked up at her, and licked his lips, tasting her. When she saw him grinning at her knowingly, Jean joined him on the ground, pinning him on his back.

"That's some kind of apology," Jean told him as she undid his belt and started taking off his pants.

"Just proving a point," Pan returned. "You liked it, didn't you."

She didn't dignify his statement with a response, although she knew him to be right. She kissed him on the mouth. Then she kissed his cock by placing it in her mouth completely. He let out a moan, smiling when pleasure hit him like a lightning bolt.

She sat on him, then, and then as the friction between their bodies erupted into a strong release equalized and muffled by rough kissing, Jean and Pan fell into the waves of ecstacy, riding out their individual ripples of desire. When the last of it had eroded into content, Jean exhaled slowly, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the rest of her orgasm with a small smile on her face.

Pan watched her, smiling as well, but for the sake of being able to enjoy the sight of his queen being completely satisfied.

"In all seriousness, I will let the others know that we will be playing by your rules." Pan said. "No sabotage."

"Thank you." Jean returned, smiling when he kissed her forehead.

"Anything for you, Kitten."

Jean watched him walk away to join the others at the camp; she smirked. It was amazing to watch him come _and_ walk away. Grinning broadly, she joined the camp soon after.

"When are we leaving?" asked Tock. "I wanna know when I can start reconciling my soul; mine is gonna take some time."

"Why would you need to do anything with your soul?" asked Slightly.

"Because I'm gonna get slaughtered by some Indians tomorrow." Tock said, planting his hand over his face and shaking his head. "We're all gonna die."


	25. What Would You Do

The goal of the Indian obstacle was simple: Retrieve the Headdress...oh, and don't die.

Pan and the others gave Jean a look as though her last sentiment might have easily gone unspoken.

Jean stood with her back against the tree and the other boys crouched around her looking through the long grass at the Indian Tribe.

"There are so many," whined Tock, rubbing his face; he was still attempting to wake up before the raucous fight began.

As promised, Jean had let them sleep, but as soon as Dawn had come, they were packing up and moving out. Tock yawned, and Slightly muttered something pessimistic. Meanwhile, Devin, who always seemed the least unenthusiastic about these treacherous games, seemed the most optimistic. He looked at Jean.

"What's at the end of the game?"

"What do you mean?" Jean questioned.

"Like what do we get when we win?" asked Devin curiously. He gestured to the camp with his eyes, saying, "The bridge, the Indians...the pay off must be grand, right?"

Jean smirked, saying, "Always looking for motivation. I like that. Well, son, the price of playing the game does have a grand pay off at the end."

"We beg of you to tell us," muttered Nibs. "Not even the largest chocolate cake is worth this amount of trouble."

"Oh, ye of little faith," Jean breathed, shaking her head.

"Is it something practical at least?" Tin asked, adjusting his tall frame to fit behind the tree Jean was leaning on so the Indians wouldn't see him.

"At this point, would it even ruin the game by telling us?" implored Slightly. "Half of us are gonna die anyway."

"If you really want to know, the prize for winning this game is a turn with me." Jean answered.

"What?" the boys asked, surprised.

" _ **WHAT**_?" Pan demanded, looking at Jean.

Jean smiled at them, and most importantly looked at Pan, who was ready to rip something in half.

Jean flipped her hair saying, "Well, Peter. You asked the boys a long time ago what they would be willing to do in order to have a turn with me. _This_ will prove it."

Pan stood to his feet, ready to fight something.

"That was a _joke_ , Jean." Pan said, suddenly annoyed.

"Not when _**you**_ tossed the idea up like a _bribe_ ," Jean returned coolly, crossing her arms to add the emphasis. "Not as funny when someone else 'jokes' about it, is it?"

Pan seethed. Jean had acted like she had been over that comment made long ago. This was Pan's forever reminder that Jean could hold a grudge for a few months...maybe longer.

"I will not allow this," Pan told Jean, approaching her angrily. "That is insane."

"Why are you getting all touchy?" Jean remarked sheepishly.

The boys were still in shock, although Tock looked suddenly happier about playing the game now. Felix, who had claimed his love for Jean (and made it known to everyone although not as willingly as Tock) looked indifferent; he and Pan had come to an understanding a long time ago.

Pan was pissed off.

Jean poked Pan in the chest saying, "If anyone would have agreed with the idea, I figured you would have."

"Why in the hell would I EVER agree to that?" Pan snapped.

"Because 'Peter Pan never fails' is what you always say," Jean returned just as vehemently. "You sounded pretty confident about winning this game in the beginning. What would it have mattered what the price was if you 'never fail', hm? Now, your confidence of winning games seems a little lacking."

Pan glared at her.

"You-You.." He was so angry, he was stammering.

Jean was a bit impressed. She hadn't expected Pan to react so passionately.

"Can I weigh in on this?" asked Tock.

Pan violently pushed his palm out in Tock's direction and the boy was pulled up into the sky by Pan's magic and smacked down back to the earth.

Right in the middle of the Indian Tribe.

"Holy shit!" Slightly exclaimed.

And the entire tribe, who had been warned prior to the game about the possible theft of their precious headdress, swarmed with spears, bow and arrows, and rage. They howled into the clear skies.

To protect their comrade, the Lost Boys forgot all about the possible prize at the end of the game, and rushed to save Tock who was crying the moment he saw the Indians charge.

Pan turned unhappily towards Jean, ignoring the scared screams from Tock. Jean turned to him as well.

"You want to talk to ME about not playing fair!" Pan growled. "But here you are, offering yourself to everyone on Neverland just to prove a _point_?"

"It appears so," snarled Jean. "The new boys that come onto this island look at me every day like I'm a toy, Peter; the ones like Jock and Edge can make this island sometimes unbearable. I try to diffuse it. But you taunt them, like I'm the winning prize at the end; You gamble and I sometimes end up paying that price. Look how motivated these boys have become" (Jean pointed at the Lost Boys in the war before them) "When they finally see just what is made available to them. Now you can really see what they would do if the prize was me."

Pan snapped, "I would never gamble you away, and even if I did, nothing would ever happen to you. I'd make sure of that!"

In the background, there was shouting and clashing of spears and sticks. Jean and Pan were at it though, so the background noise was only slightly heard.

" _Would you now_?" Jean shot back. "You can really be overconfident about your abilities, Peter."

"I have been able to protect you **this** long," Pan reminded harshly.

Jean shot back: "well, maybe one day you don't get to me in time. Maybe something happens and I get really hurt by a boy you thought you could trust. What happens then, huh? What the fuck would you do?"

"Where the hell is this even coming from?" Pan exclaimed, staring at her.

"YOU is where all of this is coming from!" Jean bellowed, glaring at him. "You tell the boys and me that 'Peter Pan Never Fails', like it's your fucking motto."

Pan stepped forward. She did too.

"You want to gamble me away hypothetically, or pretend that there is no one on the island that would cross us. You don't think much about it, but _I_ do." Jean told him icily. "Maybe something DOES happen to me, Peter. Maybe one day you DO fail. What would you do?"

Pan didn't have an answer immediately, so Jean screamed, "WHAT WOULD YOU DO!"

" _I don't know_!" Pan shouted back angrily. "I don't know what I would do!"

Jean stared at him. Not because he had no clear answer. Not because he was giving her the angriest look she had ever seen. Jean glanced down and saw that he had her wrists in a vice-like grip, as though the thought of losing her was just close enough that he felt the need to hold her so tightly so it wouldn't happen.

Pan looked upset. That much was clear. His eyes, brilliant green, were smoldered as though the anger in them was the only thing keeping him in check. And his lips were pursed as though to keep a million things from spilling out from between them; and he was breathing heavily.

Jean glanced up at the sky to see that their violent argument had turned the skies from a soft, sunny day to a cloudy one. The clouds had turned from their puffy blue to an angry dark gray.

Pan noticed how hard he was holding her wrist, and he dropped them as though he had been burned. Jean's wrists were red from where he'd held them so tightly.

Her hard expression softened when she saw how upset he really was.

"You tell all of us you will never fail," Jean said quietly. "But one day, you may. That might mean you losing me. Or me losing you."

A moment of silence passed.

Seeing the change of weather, Pan and Jean noticed that the war between the Indians and Lost Boys had momentarily paused, considering their voices had carried; the thunder above and change in winds had caught all of their attention. Now that the debate had seemingly died down, the fight continued. One of the boys shouted "CHAARRRRRGE!" This might have been Devin from the sound of it.

Pan sighed deeply, saying, "All this from a comment?"

Smartly, Jean returned, "You may have thought nothing about it but it hurt me."

Pan frowned.

"I didn't know." Pan admitted.

Jean rolled her eyes, shaking her head as if she seemed unconvinced.

"How can I know if you don't tell me?" Pan returned curiously.

Jean shrugged, saying, "One of the few fatal flaws in female logic, I suppose."

Pan placed his hand along her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek. She placed her palm over the back of his hand, loving the contact.

"From now on," said Pan softly, "if I say something that bothers you, Jean, you need to let me know. There are days when I can read your mind easily, but you're still as unpredictable as sin."

Jean nodded.

"GUYS!"

Jean and Pan turned their heads to see all of the Lost Boys being cornered against a rock wall, completely disarmed, and a band of Indians slowly approaching them with menacing looks.

"BIT Of HELP?!" called Nibs.

"We shall die with HONORRRR!" Slightly shouted.

"NOOOO! I Don't want TO dIE!" screamed TOck. "I'm too young to die!"

"COWAarrRRRRDS!" screeched Devin, who held up his hands ready to fight.

"OHGODWE'reDEAD!" cried out the Twins.

"TELLMYMOMILOVEHER!" Toodles whined.

"Your mom doesn't even live here!" Cricket shouted.

Pan took out his dagger. Jean did as well.

When they came barreling through the crowd of Indians, the latter separated and the Lost Boys watched, stunned, as Jean and Pan fought back-to-back.

Felix, who always enjoyed watching Jean spar, smiled happily when she snatched one of the spears from the Indians, throwing it behind her, and she threatened the sorry lad with a nick to his throat. The Indian knew better, and took off running.

When Jean was cornered by three Indians, including a rather murderous-looking Tiger Lily, Pan poofed by her side, disarming two of the Indians, and the latter boys took off. Jean smiled as Pan left her to deal with the Indian Princess.

In Tiger Lily's native tongue, Jean challenged her to step up and be the real leader she was meant to be. Tiger Lily spat back in her own tongue that it would only be a matter of seconds before Jean was on her back, begging for mercy.

Tock muttered to Felix, "That's more like it."

Felix punched him in the gut for being so disrespectful.

Pan took on two Indians at a time, parrying for a while until he became bored. He was taken by surprise when one burly fellow caught his attack, and then, with a dagger of his own, the Indian took a swing and sliced Pan's side. Seeing this, Jean was enraged.

"AAHHHHHHHHH!" Jean took off after the Indian.

The Indian who had caught Pan off guard was instantly on his feet, fleeing from Pan's infuriated girlfriend.

It was quite comical, but ultimately terrifying, seeing Jean's eyes lit up like an angry brush fire as she sprinted after the Indian who had assaulted her love. Pan, who touched his side gingerly, was clearly amused by the Native's impressive attack. The other Lost Boys clamored forward to make sure their bold Leader was still on the up-and-up. He waved them away, telling them to keep on fighting the good fight.

Meanwhile, Pan went in the same direction Jean had taken off, looking for her. He found her along the shore, still chasing a tired-looking Indian, whose only motivation to keep running was to save his own skin. Jean still appeared murderous. Her lips were snarling, and her eyes were wide and bright.

Pan, himself, found her appearance intimidating, He almost felt sorry for the Indian who was nearly crying as he ran for his life.

Then he watched the Indian run into the shore, choosing a fate with the mermaids over the inevitable slaughter. The Mermaids took him in, and drowned him. Jean seemed unaware of the fact as she went after him. Pan stopped for a second, waiting for Jean to break through the surface empty-handed (or with a dead mermaid), but she didn't come up. After a couple of minutes, Pan felt that familiar surge of panic and cursed under his breath.

He didn't care to take off his clothes. He dove in fully dressed, and found Jean in the ocean, fighting with five mermaids. The Indian was beside her, his eyes open, glazed over; his face dead, but frozen in fear.

Pan saw the five mermaids grabbing Jean's legs and arms each; the fifth was choking her. Armed with his dagger, Pan swam forward and he fought them off, taking a swipe at the one who was personally trying to end Jean's life. The mermaid realized who she was up against and then with a mighty kick of her fin, the mermaid was gone.

Pan saw Jean's face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth was as well. She looked gone, but Pan knew she was a tough survivor. With a flicker of hope still inside, Pan took her in one arm, and swam up to the surface. When he broke through the tide, he shook her.

"Jean." Pan called out to her, although he had to stammer it out a bit for he was a bit choking himself.

She didn't even stir. Instead, she just shook like a rag doll. Unable to answer, or speak, or move.

"Damn it." Pan hissed.

He pushed them both onto a rock, getting up first so he could pull Jean onto her back.

De Ja Vu...except, a spell wasn't keeping her from him. The possibility of her no longer being able to come back to him made Pan feel small, and alone.

"Jean!" Pan called out.

He held out his hands in front of him, wringing them as he tried to figure out what the hell to do. Then he seemed to find his mind, and placed his mouth over Jean's, holding her nose and blowing. When her chest rose, Pan did the same process.

"Please, baby, wake up for me." Pan begged.

He shook her a little, hoping she might slap him for doing that. But she didn't even flinch. He moved onto her other side (although he doubted it might have made a difference).

"Wake up, babe." Pan pleaded. "Come on!"

He held her nose again, and blew into her mouth. Her chest rose. Still no reaction. Pan placed his hands over each other and pushed against her chest (he hoped he was hitting the right spot).

'What if one day, you DO fail.'

Jean's words came back to him from earlier, and Pan shook his head, trying to physically alleviate the heaviness of her words, how greatly they pained his chest and made his stomach queasy.

"Please..." Pan muttered.

Jean was dying.

Or dead.

He could feel it.

'What would you DO!'

Jean's words were becoming a tantalizingly angry chant, and Pan was becoming more and more desperate to wake her up.

He felt himself slowly starting to fall apart.

And as the echo of the question resounded in his mind, Pan shouted angrily, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!"

He took her in his arms, the dead weight making him feel even more lost than ever.

What else could he do?!

"Come back to me, Jean. Please...I can't live here without you..." Pan begged quietly. "I need you."

Hot tears began to fall down his cheek, and he angrily brushed them away.

He laid Jean's body back down and he tried to figure out what to do.

True Love.

Wasn't that the purest magic of all? Rare, yes, but they never had tested it before...and Pan knew he and Jean were meant to be together with their contact through dreams and never having really known the other was Malcolm and Evanna...but were they REALLY True Love?

True Love's Kiss could heal any ill, any curse...

 _What about death?_

 _What if she was really dead though._

 _What if._

 _What. If._

 _What if what if what if what if what if_

Pan suddenly threw whatever he was thinking to the sky and he kissed Jean slowly, softly, being more gentle than he'd ever been before.

But nothing happened.

 _A leap of faith..._

Then, quite suddenly, Jean's body shook violently and Pan was taken aback, scared even. Jean coughed up a great deal of water, and spit it out, lying on her side. She was convulsing at first then she seemed to relax, or at least her body did.

Jean gagged a little longer, then rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Fucking mermaids." Jean coughed.

She gave a small squeak of surprise when she felt a pair of arms tightly wrap around her. Jean blinked to see Pan in front of her, and realized he was the one holding her against him. A bit taken aback, but just equally happy, Jean wrapped her arms (or at least, what she could since he had entrapped them under his own). When he withdrew, Jean saw him between the stages of complete happiness and yet the last of desperation and sadness. Overall, he appeared quite relieved.

"Peter, are you okay?"

Pan said quietly, "I thought I had lost you."

"Oh..." Jean glanced around them, then turned to see the ocean where she remembered going after the Indian..then the fight with the mermaids.

She looked back at him.

"You saved me?" she asked.

"That, I did." Pan returned.

"You thought I was dead?"

Pan nodded. "For a moment, I think you were."

"That's...fascinating," Jean muttered, looking back at the ocean curiously. She touched her head and muttered, "That does explain why I feel like crap."

Pan chuckled, smiling at her.

Jean glanced at him, then noticed the gash on his right side, just above his hip.

"Are *you* okay though?" Jean asked, her hand moving to his side.

Pan said softly, "Don't worry about that."

"You know. You tell me that but then my instant reaction is to do so." Jean returned lightly.

Pan hugged her again, and Jean chuckled.

Overall, the fact one of their own had been killed in the process, the Indian Tribe were furious. But Pan and the Chief spoke in low, dulcet tones, and Pan explained to the Chief what had happened to Jean. After a moment of debate, the Chief conceded that while the death of their own was never to be overlooked, the deceased had been overbearing anyway, and that this time, it could be swept under the metaphorical rug. Pan agreed, and the headdress was returned to the Indian Princess.

The Lost Boys and other Indian attended party looked completely lost.

Pan and Jean didn't tell them that Jean had died for a few minutes and thanks to True Love's kiss, she had been restored. While True Love's kiss might not have brought back Jean, the two lovers suspected that wherever Jean had been, she had felt it in someway and had come back to Pan.

"Even beyond the grave," Jean said softly, "I can still find my way back to you."

Pan walked with his left arm around Jean's waist, favoring his right side for the moment; the Indian had taken a good shot at him while alive.

The game was retired early, to the relief of the Lost Boys. They didn't care what the prize was as long as they lived to see another day in Neverland.

They were returning from the camp, Jean and Pan leading from the rear. Although, the front was headed by Felix, who also knew the way back, so the boys in between followed both.

"I do have answer for you," Pan said lightly.

"About what?"

"You asked me," said Pan casually, "What i would do if I ever lost you. And I said I didn't know."

"What, now you do?" asked Jean, lightly laughing.

"Yes." Pan answered seriously. "I do."

Jean looked at him.

"I would find a way to bring you back," Pan said. "You and I are meant to be together forever. Not just here, in Neverland. But in general. I'd find a way to bring you back to me."

Jean chuckled saying, "I'd do the same."

They were quiet as they strolled a while longer.

"What if something happened to me?" Pan asked curiously. "What would *you* do?"

"I'd spend the rest of my life trying to find a way back to you," said Jean. "If needed, I would murder countless people. I'd rip out their hearts, probably run them through with my dagger. Watch them slowly bleed out." Sweetly, she added: "I'd kill for you."

Pan chuckled, "I love it when you talk like that."

Jean beamed saying, "Well, it's true." she shrugged. "Wherever we end up, be it Neverland or the Underworld or somewhere else, you will always be my King."

Pan smirked, saying, "Well, in the Underworld, you may have to call me Master."

"So be it." Jean said in her most seductive of tones. "*Master*."

Pan shuddered.

"I like the sound of that." Pan drawled.

Jean giggled when he grabbed her ass, and she pecked him on the neck.

"Slow down, Felix! We're losing Mum and Dad!" Kibbles complained.

"She's not our mother and Pan isn't our Dad!" snapped Slightly.

"Maybe not YOURS!" Kibbled sassed back.

The boys 'ooooed' and Devin laughed, "Your sass levels are really high, Kibbles."

Pan and Jean smirked, knowing Kibbles was starting to pick up a great deal of Jean's habits and personality.


	26. So Cruel

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Pan carved a new set of pipes as he sat on his usual marble throne. The throne itself had been fashioned to his own liking so it appeared to be just as it was intended to appear: a chair, but a magnificently carved stone.

Like with the rest of the 'furniture', skins of animals made the throne more comfortable. Feeling so, Pan had one leg over the arm and the other on the floor with one hand on the dagger and the other sternly holding the slab of wood.

So far, it was becoming one the best pipes he had ever created with intricate designs on it.

Before him was the usual camp fire, its flames feathering up to the sky to disappear into ember, then smoke, and thin air. It was a quiet night for a reason as the drums weren't being struck by sticks; the whooping and hollering from rowdy Lost Boys had died away when Jean had come out of the tree house an hour ago, looking more radiant than ever.

Neverland was good to Jean. Her hair dropped down and settled naturally above her breasts, and the sweet wavy locks of ebony shined and gleamed against the fire's light and milky moon. Shaming the ocean were Jean's brilliantly blue eyes and they seemed to crystallize and taunt Peter as Jean looked his way, smiling at him.

Pan momentarily forgot his carpentry skills when he saw her attire had changed from the black shoulder-less dress to a knee-high skirt that was pure white, and if she twirled, it would rise with the windy incline. Her legs were tanned beauties, connected to her small bare feet.

It was like seeing her for the first time all over again, Pan thought. Seeing her in his dreams for the very first time, he had been just as captivated by her beauty, and lost in her voice when she spoke to him.

Her first words to him had been a simple inquiry, a small question, but her voice had caught him as though he had been certain he had heard it before, not knowing he indeed had.

He remembered her words: _"Do you live here?"_

And his response had been, " _That, I do._ " Pan remembered how he had given her permission to leave the island in their dreams and she had disagreed, saying it was one of the most wonderful places she had ever visited and how she longed to eternally remain.

Their dreams had been a place for their long lost souls to reconnect, to encourage a long sought out reunion.

Seeing Jean in her pure white skirt and the shirt she wore in place of the black dress made Pan feel as though he might have forgotten how to breathe. Remembering to do just that, he exhaled deeply.

Jean's top was white, and it exposed the loveliness of her love handles; while she had become stronger on the island, gaining a tight core, the softness of her belly remained. How Jean despised that part of her body, that part that simply would not dissolve. But Pan liked her. All of her. And seeing that small belly of hers seemed to only emphasize the pleasurable discomfort churning inside his own.

Jean's shoulders were covered, her well defined arms clothed in the white material, and the sleeves made a triangular fold to the middle knuckle on top of her hands.

Jean looked like a princess. Nay, a Queen.

And Pan smirked, knowing that illustrious beauty was his Queen. His. And she would forever be his.

As Jean had come out of the tree house looking very much like an innocent beauty with her hair decorated of small flower petals and stringed beads, it only made Pan's urge to fuck her even more tempting for he knew that Jean was too far from being innocent.

So cruel, she could be in her games, in the jungle, or in Pan's bed, Jean could be quite sadistic.

So cruel...so _wicked._

Pan continued to watch Jean as he carved away on the pipe, not really having to look down to observe his handiwork for he'd made many a pipe in the several decades he had spent watching Jean from his throne as she played with the younger children, conversing with the older boys as she did so.

Right now, Jean was playing 'patty cake' with Kibbles, who while only being seven years old, still loved those simplest of games. As she played with Kibbles, Jean spoke with Devin, who sat beside her and sharpened the stick he always carried around, as though it was not only a sword, but an extension of himself.

Pan saw Tock sitting on the other side of her, looking as though he might either run for the hills or kiss Jean. The fellow would be all the wiser to run and jump off the cliff and risk dying at the mermaids' hands than lie a finger on Jean's soft shoulders.

Pan had been watching Tock closely, knowing just how tempting it would be to lie a single finger on Jean when Pan wouldn't be watching.

Jean could take care of herself, Pan knew. She would cut off Tock's hand before she ever allowed anyone to touch her the way Pan did. And that made Pan smile too.

Since the night Jean had nearly been taken from him, Pan had distanced himself a little from his lovely girlfriend. He had convinced Jean that he only wanted to give her a moment to revitalize, to recuperate from that event, but Pan had lied.

It was he, who needed time to pull himself together.

He had almost lost her. He hadn't ever considered the possibility of that ever happening. Pan had always come at the right time to save Jean from harm, even if that harm was never there in the first place. Sometimes (as it had been with Edge), it was the principle of the matter. He'd no sooner risk the thought of having Jean's memory of him stolen than he would have if the potion had been really intended for the purpose of forgetting. He'd have saved Jean regardless, for Edge had threatened his happiness, threatened his love, made Jean uncomfortable...and when someone made Jean unhappy, it made HIM unhappy.

"Please," said Kibbles.

Pan was torn from his reverie to realize that he had broken his wooden pipe. He blinked, realizing his anger at the sheer thought of losing Jean had made him physically act without thinking.

He looked up to see Kibbles positioning himself in Jean's lap, her legs outstretched in front of her, crossed at her bare ankles. Pan gave her legs a look, smirking when Jean had noticed.

"Please tell us a story," Kibbles pleaded.

Pan grinned when Jean rolled her eyes, reluctantly. She could sing them a lullaby or shower them with praise when they had done a brilliant job at hunting or fishing or dancing, and she would lay down a scolding if it meant disciplining one of the boys for killing another Indian (one of the nicer tribe, not the angrier barbaric tribes). But Jean didn't seem to care for story-telling.

It was a shame too for she was decent at it.

"Pppplllllleeeeeaaasssee tell us a story?" Kibbles begged, tugging on Jean's sleeve. "I wanna hear the one about Cinderella."

"Bah to Cinderella!" said Slightly, sticking out his tongue. "I want to hear about Snow White."

"Yes, Snow White!"

"No," said the Twins together, "We want to hear about Robin Hood."

"Bah to Robin Hood, the stupid thief," muttered Tin. "Let's hear about Ariel. That little mermaid."

"I'm tired of mermaids," kibbles said unhappily.

"She's a good mermaid!" Tin reminded.

"She's still a mermaid," reminded Kibbles.

Jean sighed, saying, "Agree on one of them, or I'm not telling any stories."

Immediate Panic. Then after some compromising, some name-calling, and a great deal of swearing, the boys agreed to hear the story about Cinderella.

Pan smirked.

Jean only told the stories of the movies and stories she'd seen and read as a little girl back when she lived in the world of no magic. She even told the story about Peter Pan who lived in Neverland, but it was an alternate universe in which Pan had been a fool of a boy and not anywhere near as cunning and malicious as their born leader presently.

Jean told the story of Cinderella, a girl who lost her own father and mother and had to live with her wicked two stepsisters and their evil stepmother. She told it with great details and even used different voices (that all really sounded similar although spoken in different volumes and tones) for all the characters. Jean spoke more with her hands than her words, and she mimed the reactions of the evil stepmother.

Pan listened to Jean narrate. He didn't realize that he had become drawn into the story as well, listening to her narrate it so well. Jean was an avid narrator, and she spoke so animatedly that all the boys, including Pan, felt as though they were IN the story.

Just as Jean was about to get into the part where Cinderella had to leave for the clock struck Midnight, there was a crack of twigs behind them. Pan looked up, past Jean's shoulder to see a gigantic bear, almost eight feet tall as it stood on its hind legs and ROOOOOOOOAAaarrRRRRRREEEEDDDD!

"HOLY SHIT!

"HOLY FUCK!"

"GODDAMN!"

"FUCK ME!"

All the lost boy sprung to their feet, and Jean, who had done the same, suddenly took up her bow and arrow. Pan ran to her side, drawing out his dagger as he did so.

"Jean, we can help!" Slightly shouted, and he began to race towards the bear, but not before seeing two others in equal size and stature, arise to challenge from the jungle.

Three large brown bears. All bearing their teeth, standing on their hind legs, towering over the lost boys and the King and Queen of Neverland.

Pan and Jean glanced at each other.

"Jean!" Slightly said.

"MOM!" Kibbles cried, hoping that his cry would bring Jean away from the fearsome animals.

Pan looked at Jean.

"You need to go." Pan told her.

"What? Are you _dim_?" Jean inquired. "And miss out on all the fun?"

Pan simply raised his hand and the bears were immediately flung up into the air and thrown clear across the island, their loud animal shrieks being the only trace they had ever been there in the first place. Well, except for the large paw prints on the sand.

Jean gave Pan a look.

"What?" Pan asked.

"You did that on purpose," Jean called him out on it. "You magicked them up out of thin air and made them come to the camp site, didn't you?"

Pan did all he could to suppress his mischievous grin.

"If you didn't want to hear the rest of the story, you could have just said so," Jean stated calmly as she lowered and relaxed her bow and arrow, looking at him as though he had behaved childishly, but even though she had tried scolding him as she might have done with the lost boys, Jean had a hard time suppressing her own smile.

The Lost Boys looked as though they might have pissed themselves.

And that was funny.

Jean and Pan turned to see the boys coming back to the camp after having run off to save themselves, just as Jean would have told them to do anyway. Pan saw Jean shake her head, muttering, "You are such a boy."

Jean sat back down, and as the boys sat around Jean so as to hear the rest of the story, Pan bent down at the waist so he could caress Jean's face and kiss her lips. Jean returned it just as lovingly.

"You are a beautiful storyteller," said Pan lightly, "but the story of Cinderella bores me."

He sat down back on his throne, and said in his usual cocky tone, "Tell a different story."

"How about _you_ tell one if you're so picky," Jean returned.

Kibbles looked at Jean.

"Please finish the Cind...cinder...ellla story."

Kibbles had a hard time pronouncing long names. Imagine the fun if he was forced to pronounce Rumplestiltskin's name. The thought made Pan chuckle.

"We can finish it tomorrow night, my dear," said Jean softly. She kissed the boy on the forehead, saying, "Peter ruined the mood with his bears."

"Ah, damn it." Slightly muttered. "Just when I was liking the story too. Does she die?"

"Does who die?" asked Jean.

"The girl. Her."

"Tomorrow," Jean reminded.

"No hints at all?" whined Toodles.

"None." Jean returned.

"That fucking blows," said Tin.

"I know the ending," said Tock proudly.

Jean said dangerously, "If you tell the rest of the story, you better tell it right." She gave him the eye, adding, "I mean it, Tock. No fucking falsies."

Falsies was Jean's term for when people made up the ending to either toy with people's emotions concerning the story or making up a phony, do-it-yourself ending where the audience had to guess what happened to the main character at the end.

It pissed Jean off to no end.

As Tock picked up the torch so to speak and began telling the rest of the story, Jean stood to her feet and walked over to Pan. Noticing her, Pan straightened his back and raised an eyebrow, interested, as he smirked up at her.

"Any room for me?" Jean inquired playfully.

Pan patted his lap, and Jean smiled happily. She turned and sat on him so her back laid restfully against his chest, and her legs cradled his. Being a little shorter than he, Jean's feet dangled a little bit above his boots.

Pan ignored Tock's story (for the boy was not nearly as animated and engaging as Jean) and turned his head so he could bury his nose in Jean's hair. She smelled like salt water, coconut, and evergreen. The flowers adorning her hair tickled his nose.

Getting comfortable, Jean wiggled her body, and Pan stifled any sound that might have come from his mouth; she was making him hard as she wiggled her butt, nonchalantly and incidentally grinding against him as she re-positioned herself.

Pan relaxed into his throne and as she lied on him, Jean relaxed with him.

He liked feeling Jean's body being aligned with his, the way her body heat nearly consumed him. Her head lied back on his shoulder, giving him a lovely view of all her pretty assets.

She was intoxicating, the bane of his existence but if she ever was a poison, Jean was also the cure.

Jean could make him feel things he never felt with anyone else. She could make him want for nothing, and beg for anything if her body and her voice and her love so did ask for it. She could make him a puddle in her palm, or rock hard in the next second.

At the sight of her, Pan's heart would stop beating and upon hearing the words that declared her love for him, Jean could restart his heart and make it beat just as strongly as it did before.

God. He loved her.

How he wanted her, loved her...and from the past events, Pan knew he would always need her. She had seen him when Pan thought he had lost her forever. That vulnerability, that weakness...she had seen it.

But despite seeing him when he was a weakling as Malcolm, as pitiful of a beggar of freedom he had been, Jean had fallen in love with him all over again.

She'd kill for him, Jean had said. Anything to find her way back to him as he would do anything to make sure she stayed with him.

Forever.

They were really in this for the long haul.

"Someone's deep in thought," Jean whispered, her eyes on Tock but her attention clearly divided.

Resting solely on him.

Pan smiled, loving that attention. Just as Jean was the only girl he ever looked at, much less cared for, Jean would never really give her full attention to any other boy but him.

He craved her eyes on him. Even if it was for the smallest, shortest second. No one needed her attention more than he. His jealous heart would not allow it.

Sensing Pan's deep reverie, Jean didn't interrupt again. But she did interlace her fingers in his. Her free hand and those slender fingers admired the muscular definition in his arms as she drew small invisible doodles along his inner forearm.

Pan watched her. He watched her eyes blink, those long, thick eyelashes fluttering slightly as they opened. He watched her lips, as her tongue slowly licked the bottom and became indented by her teeth as she bit it subconsciously.

Pan had watched Jean before in the same trance, but not quite so intensely. Jean could feel his eyes on her, and she loved it.

The right corner of Pan's lips lifted in a crooked smile when Jean muttered something of boredom. Tock had bored the story teller with her own story.

Wow...A new record on Neverland. And this island had been around for longer than time.

Pan felt Jean shudder.

The colder seasons were coming to Neverland. He magicked a fur blanket to appear and with his free hand, Pan placed it over he and his queen, who looked happy and thankful. She kissed him on the cheek to show her gratitude.

"The pumpkin popped and shit and the animals turned back to themselves and the girl was like all sad and shit," Tock was saying.

Jean and Pan ignored him. They ignored the other Lost Boys who were slowly dying out of boredom. They ignored the calls of the birds around them, the tides crashing and sneaking on the shore only to be dragged out by the motherly ocean once more. They ignored the crackling of the fiery embers, as the heat of their bodies intensified under the warming blanket.

As Jean rested with her head on his shoulder, she had turned it to the side so she and Pan could kiss. The kiss was slow, almost clumsy as the two had become seemingly drunk by the other's presence. The kiss was soft. It was deep, even more so when Pan licked her upper lip so she automatically parted the other, inviting him.

Jean smiled. Under the blanket, more naughty things were happening.

She'd let go of his hand so his fingers slid under her skirt and massaged her inner thighs. His other hand joined in the fun, taking charge as it lifted her skirt above her waist and his two large hands moved down inside her panties. With his thumbs, he traced her panty lines.

Pan smirked when Jean gasped quietly, as his fingers slid just along her pussy, the heat of her sex inviting his touch, longing for the contact.

Outside the blanket, the two lovers appeared quite calm, in charge, and well disciplined. Under the blanket, which was large enough to swallow them whole, Jean followed Pan's hands with her own, her palms becoming a shadow of his.

When they blanketed his own, Pan breathed into Jean's ear, his voice lower than usual: "You never fail to impress me, Kitten." He kissed the skin just below her earlobe, saying, "I don't have to touch you to know just how wet you are."

He kissed Jean's neck and said in the same voice only she could hear, "Or how wet you really want to be."

Jean tried to ignore the call of her desires, the tug of her lustful strings as she listened to Pan's voice, knowing the more he talked to her this way, the more rampant her core would scream.

He taunted her pussy with his fingers, all ten digits moving around her slick opening, as they traced her lines and her thighs, but never made the slightest contact with the already swollen lips or the throbbing bundle of nerves begging for a feel.

"I love seeing you like this," Pan told her in a matter-of-fact tone. With his right hand, he lifted the hem of her shirt just enough so it slipped underneath and felt a naked breast, his index finger tracing the areola around her nipple. However, just as he had been teasing her wet entrance, Pan would taunt the hardened nub but never touch it, or (as Jean wished more than anything) pinch it, hard.

"So hungry. So...wet." Pan uttered, intentionally making his voice moan the words so Jean winced at the harsh tugging and burning in her loins.

"Peter, I swear to god." Jean muttered quietly, but she barely held the calm tone. Just barely.

"Don't swear to god," Pan uttered. "Swear to **me**."

He quickly slid a finger inside her pussy, but just as quickly as he had thrust it inside, he pulled it out so Jean was left in ruin, her body nearly seizing with the lick of what could have been and yet was not..at least, not yet.

Jean's reaction had been satisfying to Pan, who had watched her eyes suddenly flash open and her jaw drop low with the intense gratification, and then she looked as though she was being tortured for the pleasure had gone as easily it had come.

Pan was sure she *had* come just from that single action alone. And now her body achingly moved against his in the smallest of movements so as not to attract the attention from the other boys who were still agonizingly trying to sound interested in Tock's story, and while the one about Cinderella had ended, Tock had quickly gone on to begin the story about Snow White.

Jean turned her head to look at Pan and she saw that look on his face, one of pride, and smugness. Damn it, he looked so hot.

There was also a smile, a real genuine one as Pan had to admire the divinity of the girl to whom she had given his heart. He'd give her his time, his name, all of it, for her if need be. And nothing would stand in his way. Nor would anyone.

How he loved her so.

And he loved that expression on her face as the lust had darkened her eyes. Jean was kissing him again, and Pan all the more granted it to her.

He was still teasing her underneath the blanket, one hand taunting her sex while the other playing with the hardened nips of both her breasts. He didn't grope them as he wanted to, or admire the healthy handfuls that could be caressed and cupped in his palm. What would taunt and tease him would moreover have the same affect for her...and while he craved her body and to feel himself inside her, Pan knew that she was wanting it just as badly.

And that could satiate him.

For the time being.

And the challenge presented itself soon enough when Jean brought her kissable lips to his neck, the soft pecks wet from her tongue as she breathed against his neck. She pressed her mouth along his jaw and he lifted his chin as though to evade her tempting kiss, but just as he had done so, Jean found his throat and licked him there. Her tongue was wet, and hot.

And he shuddered pleasurably at the thought of her tongue wrapped around his cock, which was hardening and throbbing inside his pants.

Was he really teasing his queen, or was Pan just teasing himself?

Both, perhaps. But oh, the fun.

"I know what you're up to," Pan said quietly when she smirked at him and rested her head back on his shoulder sheepishly.

"Do you?" Jean responded quietly, although the mischief in her voice couldn't hide the longing.

"You have to remember who you are up against, little girl," Pan whispered, and he smirked when Jean's eyes lit up when she heard his familiar domineering tone.

"But I already know, because I can feel _you_ against _me_." Jean said. At his perplexed reaction, Jean moved her hands behind her, and with one hand on his stomach and the other moving lower, she inclined her hips so she could brush her hand quickly but roughly right against his throbbing erection.

The action alone made Pan's jaw drop as he had to hold tight to his bearing, closing his mouth and clenching his jaw so he could stifle the growing painful moan. That intense burst of pleasure...fuck, it was painful but so freaking amazing.

Jean grinned broadly at his reaction.

This was a game, and she would try her best to win.

"Maybe you have forgotten who **you're** up against," Jean reminded cockily.

Under the covers, Pan stopped teasing Jean's pussy, and lowered his palm so he cupped her, and his fingers aligned with her hot and drenched entrance.

He bit Jean's earlobe, saying, "You're going to be screaming my name by the time we are through, baby." He kissed her neck gently, adding, "And even then, I may not stop."

Jean fought with her urges, but Pan had her in the palm of his hand. Quite literally.

"Peter...not here." Jean whispered.

"You can take it," Pan returned, smirking at the image he had in his head.

Fucking Jean on his throne while his Lost Boys sat in front of them, listening to Tock, who craved Jean dearly, talk about Snow White and how she and the dwarves got along swimmingly in a cottage. All the while, Jean would be trying her hardest not to make the smallest of sounds as she felt his cock ram inside her so hard that he was certain she would scream loud enough that even the folks in another realm could hear.

God, that image was nice.

And even though Jean seemed resilient to the fact, Pan knew Jean was thinking it too. How could she not have been? She was wet in his palm, and her body was begging for him. Her hand on his cock was stroking him, grabbing him through his pants, and if Jean REALLY was against riding him in front of their dysfunctional thing called a family, then she'd have left a long time ago.

"All dressed in white," Pan uttered softly as he leaned forward and slid her panties down to her knees. "All dressed up, pretty, and sweet...but innocent? _No_."

Jean turned to look at him and quickly snatched his mouth in a kiss.

"You want me now more than you've ever wanted me before," Pan told her quietly after she broke the kiss.

Jean lifted her hips as though in a trance and hid her needy expression from the lost boys who had glanced behind to see their 'parents' talking in low voices. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary (at least not outside the blanket parameter), they turned their attention back to Tock, who appeared quite vexed.

Tock had been watching Jean and Pan flirt, and make eyes at one another, and kiss. Whether or not he had heard the words coming out of their mouths was a different matter. As though noticing the odd behavior (not Jean or Pan's, but Tock's), Felix took over with the story telling and insisted that they hear about the one with Hansel and Gretel and how the witch wanted to eat them for dinner.

That grabbed the little boys' attention when violence was mentioned. Felix sat on the side, and told with a natural gusto about the story of Hansel and Gretel.

Meanwhile, Tock side-glanced in Jean and Pan's direction, watching Jean rise a bit and then situate herself again.

Pan looked impeccably hot and bothered, but there was a reason, a reason that Tock seemed uncertain of or was trying to deny for he craved Jean and maybe, even, loved her.

But Jean didn't notice anything. Only the fact that she had Pan's cock out of his pants and with not a barrier left to deny her wishes, Jean slowly slid down, her pussy sinking down onto Pan's cock, her tight, willing walls devouring him. The two kissed and moaned quietly inside one another's mouths to stifle their volume.

Jean stood, pulling him out of her (their lower bodies hidden under the blanket), and she turned, facing him. Pan raised his eyebrows at her curiously, then with knowing, he smirked as she sat on him again, her knees cradling his ribs. They kissed again.

"Is this what you want, Peter?" Jean asked.

Pan answered her, "Definitely."

"You want to fuck me in front of your Lost Boys?" Jean asked, and she readjusted her position so her legs lined with the seat of his throne. She moved on him, lifting and lowering her hips so his cock slid in and out of her. It was the slightest of movements, but it drove Pan to his wildest dreams.

"Well, you're driving," Pan reminded, "So really, you are fucking **me**."

Jean rolled her eyes muttering, "Forgive me for being so politically incorrect."

Pan enjoyed their banter, but loved her slow ride on his cock even more. Her body was fluid, so slow and tempting, so light, but hot as fire. Her walls contracted against him, and she was so tight.

Pan held her hips, but wanted more. He moved his hands under her shirt, and groped her perky breasts. How he wanted to lick them, and suck, hard enough so he could hear her moan in pleasurable pain. She could be a wild one. And he enjoyed it immensely hearing the word 'harder' come out of her mouth.

"Kiss me," Jean whispered softly.

Pan abandoned the groping of her breasts to caress her face with his palms, and he did as she requested. He kissed her softly, then when she wiggled her hips to take all of his cock inside of her, Pan kissed her harder.

"Move faster," Pan murmured sternly.

Jean bit her lip when she heard that tone. Daddy was coming out to play.

Jean leaned into him, her hands on his shoulders as she bounced her butt up and down so as to do what he commanded.

"Like that?" Jean asked.

Pan tilted his head back, closing his eyes in response and he uttered, "*Just* like that, baby girl."

If never there was a time Jean had ever wanted to jump his bones, this would have been the first. Luckily, this was like the hundredth millionth time she wanted to fuck him seven ways til Sunday.

Jean enjoyed his expressions, enjoyed watching his eyes roll in the back of his head as she rode him to his liking, rolling her hips so her grind was at the right speed and pressure. Fundamentally, to the onlooker's eye, Jean was just being flirtatious and romantic, giving Peter Pan a nice lap dance.

This wasn't out of the ordinary for the Lost Boys. Over the several years, they had witnessed Jean and Pan becoming more openly affectionate with each other.

And Tock, who had no understanding of just how close Jean and Pan really were nor cared about the relationship, continued to watch enviously as Jean danced for Peter Pan, the King of Neverland, believing that Jean should be HIS queen.

Curiously, Slightly asked a question regarding Felix's story: "Is the house *made* of ginger men or gingerbread?"

"It's made of gingerbread men," said Felix.

"So the men are made of gingerbread? Imagine if this island was made of sweets," laughed Nibs, rolling onto his back as he delved into the idea of an entire island made of desserts.

"Back to the story..." Devin uttered, gesturing to Felix.

"Right," said Felix, and he continued.

Jean smirked as Pan looked more and more satisfied with her pace and speed, and really, she enjoyed it as well. His cock was an answer to her longing, and she enjoyed the feeling of him filling her completely.

Jean leaned into Pan further, her chest against his and feeling the difference of her position, Pan looked at her curiously. Wordlessly, she angled herself so when she slid on him again, she was tighter and Jean felt him hit her g-spot instantly.

"Oohmmm.."

Jean grinned, hearing Pan's vocal response to the new angle.

"You like it when I ride you," Jean murmured as she kissed his throat, "Don't you, Peter?"

"Very much," Pan returned quietly, tilting his head back so she kissed more of him.

"I like it too," said Jean amorously, rolling her hips a little quicker so she moved against him.

Pan moaned again, managing still quietly, "And why is _that_?"

"I like feeling you underneath me," said Jean.

"Do you," said Pan, sounding genuinely playful but a little cynical.

He was listening, but obviously gripped by something more tantalizingly tempting...and as her pussy took him in again completely, he couldn't help another moan being solicited from his mouth.

Pan opened his eyes, his head still tilted back as he watched Jean ride him, her eyes dilated in the moon light and her lips parted in pleasure as well.

"Does my little girl like being in control?" Pan breathed.

Jean nodded, biting her lip, loving how hoarse his voice had become, and how he never broke their eye contact. It was intense!

"I really hate to disappoint you, babe, but you were never in control," Pan returned.

He held her hips tightly with a firm grip of his hands, and stopped her from further amplifying both of their pleasure with her pleasant gyrating. Jean gave him a curious look, and he leaned forward.

"I'm *always* in charge," Pan reminded her firmly, smirking at her. "Even when you don't think so."

As though to prove a point, Jean wiggled quickly on his lap and Pan let out another involuntary moan, and he cringed reluctantly after having done so.

"Sounds like it's the other way around to me," Jean uttered darkly.

Pan inhaled deeply, and looked at her as though he might just pounce on her. To throw off that blanket that had shielded them this entire time, lay her down on the earth, spread eagle her, and then fuck her while the other lost boys watched.

That idea was in his head too. And how greatly he would have relished hearing her cry out to the stars as she came.

Pan let go of her hips and said, " _Keep going_."

Jean smirked, and as she started bouncing on him, she noticed that he looked particularly inclined to do something unpredictable.

When she moved on him, Pan was sure he was going to lose this game. He was losing his bearing, losing his patience, and frankly he didn't care to fuck her brains out while anyone watched. She was an illustrious queen.

She was cruel. A cruel mistress and she dared to take his every conviction, his every challenge and turn it against him.

Jean was sadistic. She used her body and his desire to pull him into her, and like a weak addict he gave into his addiction time and time again.

But how he loved her, and wanted her. And now as he watched her body dance and her hips roll and her pussy take all of him in, Pan knew he wanted her more than anything in the world.

And what was more, Jean felt the exact same way about him.

For he was cruel, and sadistic, and Jean found that he could influence her decisions with just his presence and while he never manipulated her actions, Jean could swear that his power to do so would be unlimited.

How she loved him through it all and how greatly they needed each other, wanted to be with each other til the end of time. And the passion, being so great, could likely rip them in two if given the chance.

Even if their love happened to kill them, they would be none the happier.

"Fuck me, Jean." Pan suddenly ordered.

Jean looked at him, surprised. But she would do so more than happily.

"What?"

"You heard me." Pan said sternly.

"But..." Jean began.

Would the boys being around them really stop Jean from taking what she wanted? Pan would definitely dare to find out.

"You want me, don't you?" Pan questioned.

"Yes," Jean returned passionately.

"Then do as I say." Pan said again, so stern.

He sensed the battle between being her lady-like presumptions of the long-ago past and the feral wild child that so desperately wanted to do as he said. Pan kissed her, hard.

He felt her body heat up like a torch, and as he kissed her harder and rougher, he felt her pussy soak him with her excitement; she continued to ride him, and as he dared to excite her further by placing his hand on her clit, Jean started getting more and more wild.

"Fuck me, Jean." Pan told her, his voice unmistakably authoritative and hungry. "Be a good little girl, and do as Daddy says." He bit her lower lip, enticing her further.

But he needn't have done so. Jean was already there. She stood on her knees, and her fingers gripped the back of Pan's throne as she shoved herself onto his completely erect cock, having him fill her so deeply that the feeling of it made both of them moan loudly.

Felix stopped narrating and the gang glanced around to see Jean fucking Pan, just going at it like the aggressive young lady she was. Except, this part of her was normally kept in Pan's bed at the treehouse.

"What the..." began Slightly.

Tock frowned, but he couldn't stop watching.

Felix, who had feelings for Jean, simply sighed and walked away. The others, either disgusted because they were too young to know or saw Jean and Pan as their mother, immediately took off for the hills, Kibbles and Devin included.

Tock was the only one that remained and when the blanket fell off the chair and exposed the very aggressive and rough sex between the royals of Neverland, Tock's jaw dropped.

Jean and Pan. They were moaning, but not as loudly as Pan, whose hands gripped Jean's hips as he fell into a wave of complete ecstasy. As Jean hit her peak as well (or rather a few more times), Jean moved off of Pan, who looked incredibly elated. As she was standing, Jean grabbed a handful of Pan's hair and roughly yanked his head back and kissed him hard. Pan returned it, muttering, "I fucking love you."

Jean grinned at him, then she saw Tock staring at them. He was the only one left. Everyone had bolted.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Jean asked coolly.

Pan, who was recovering, was fixing himself . By that, he was maneuvering his pants so he could put his happy member back inside. Pan glanced at Jean, who was smirking at Tock. Pan just noticed his presence.

"What *are* you looking at?" Pan inquired dangerously.

Tock cleared his throat, looking everywhere but at Pan, and then he found his intelligence: he ran.

Jean watched after him, then turned to Pan.

"Jealousy seems to bring a lot of drama to Neverland," Jean noted as she watched Pan get to his feet and hop a little as he fixed his pants, then his shirt, and then finally his belt.

He glanced at her, saying, "What's your point?"

"Tock might be the next on our list," Jean said smoothly. "Did you see how he was looking at me?"

Pan leaned over the arm of his throne and then turned to Jean, holding her panties out to her as they dangled on the tip of his middle finger.

Jean took them, and Pan smirked at her.

"So you want to kill him?" asked Pan.

"I don't know yet." Jean said.

"Well, you let me know what you want to do." Pan said. He placed two fingers under her chin, and she looked at him submissively.

He drawled, "You know how much your happiness means to me, right?"

"Yes." Jean said.

Pan smirked, saying, "Yes, what?"

Jean kissed him on the lips, slowly and sweetly.

"Yes, Daddy."

Pan chuckled. He was always amused and elated to hear her call him that. He kissed her back and she licked his neck like a kitten.

She pushed her body against him, and Pan groaned when her thigh brushed against his groin. And he felt like he wanted her all over again. As though knowing this, Jean smiled sweetly at him and then she went out to fetch the boys for their return.

Jean could be so cruel.

How fitting it was that Pan could be just as wicked, although, respectfully, he was much worse.


	27. On Good Terms

()()()()

Jean strode through the jungle, her mission having never been more purposeful. It was early in the morning, almost dawn, and with one hand twiddling with the blood diamond that was centered on her collar bone, and the other cutting down the forest and clearing a path for herself, she kept moving.

After some time, Jean finally found what she was looking for.

It was a tree house, but not the one belonging to her and Pan. It had its air, giving the clue that someone lived there, or at least formerly did. The darkness of the skies could not make Jean noticeable outside, so smiling, Jean held her hand up to the torches that surrounded the tree house on all four corners of the home, and she poked in their direction each. They lit up at her command.

As though the torches alerted the home owner, the figure shuffled down the ladder, cursing under her breath about what she would do if it was another prank. When Tinkerbell turned around to see who had intruded upon her part of Neverland, the ex-fairy simply looked curiously at Jean, and recognized her immediately, for Neverland almost seemed to bow to her.

Respectively as she could, Tinkerbell lowered her head slightly to appease Jean. After all, Jean had asked Pan on her behalf to allow her to stay in Neverland and be needlessly bothered by the Lost Boys. Jean held out her hand and magicked into the palm of it a small vial of pixie dust. Seeing it, Tinkerbell frowned.

"Is this a prank?" asked Tinkerbell unhappily, although she did take the small vial from Jean and looked at it with the observational eye of a fairy.

"Hardly," Jean returned. "It's a gift."

"For what?" Tinkerbell questioned, clearly guarded.

With good reason, Jean knew Tinkerbell held a great amount of suspicion towards her for the last several times they had met, it had been under grave circumstances. At least two of those meets had been over the dead (or dying) Lost Boy. Now it seemed that whenever Tinkerbell met Jean on the by-and-by or when one of the Lost Boys 'dropped by', it was for something dark and dangerous. Seeing Jean randomly come to her door, why would Tinkerbell think it for anything else?

Jean smiled sweetly at Tinkerbell, which only made the ex-fairy seem more suspicious.

"We may not always see eye-to-eye on things, Tink, but when it comes down to it, I know I can always rely on you to do what's best for me. It may not always be in _your_ best interest, but you do it regardless." Jean said softly. She stepped towards Tinkerbell, who stepped back hesitantly.

Jean looked at her curiously.

"You've killed two boys since your stay here," Tinkerbell told her quietly. "Forgive me when I say I really don't particularly like being in front of you these days."

Jean nodded.

"I don't blame you," said Jean lightly.

"Why did you come here?" asked Tinkerbell, her fingers holding the vial of pixie dust tightly between them. "Why did you give me this? What are you and Pan planning _this_ time? Is this part of another one of your games?"

Jean chuckled, "Why would you think this would be a part of my game?"

"You've involved other pawns in your maniacal games before," Tinkerbell reminded. "The Indians may be sporting of your sick, twisted obstacle courses, but I never will be." Then for a second that passed, she added softly, "I am just grateful enough that you didn't include me in that."

Jean looked at one of the torches, and she waved a hand over it so the fire died inside of it. When she waved her hand over it again, the ashes transformed into a breathtakingly large blue lily. Taking it gingerly in her hands, Jean walked over to Tinkerbell, and handed it to her. Tinkerbell took it just as suspiciously as she had done with the vial of pixie dust, and watched Jean smile at her.

"I may not be the sweetest girl on this island, Tink," Jean said quietly, "but I would never make you a part of something in which you did not believe." She looked at her for a moment.

Tinkerbell opened her mouth to speak, but Jean stopped her.

"I know you fear me," said Jean softly. "I can see it in your eyes. You're constantly guarded, and you're more tense around me, it seems, than when you're around him."

"Well, I have more in common with you than Pan," Tinkerbell reasoned. "He's never been any different. You were once a sweet girl, Jean. You had nothing to do with this island except have fun and being innocent, but then..." she frowned. "Now you kill people, and you use dark magic."

"Not all of it is dark magic," Jean pointed out, indicating the lily.

"And what is that?" Tinkerbell questioned, pointing to the blood diamond centered on Jean's neck.

"A product of my effort," Jean answered, touching the jewel.

"So you're still learning from him," Tinkerbell said unhappily.

"I've had this a long time," said Jean. "It used to be a pebble; then I had my first lesson with Peter, and I made it become something so much more. It has become a constant reminder of my strength, both magical and internal."

Tinkerbell looked at Jean as though what she said seemed to make sense but the thought of a small, sweet, simple girl becoming enveloped in the darker power of ripping hearts only disappointed the fairy. At one point, Jean had not even known magic, and now here she was…making torches light up to her command, turning ashes into flowers, turning pebbles into rare, uncommonly found jewels, and ripping out hearts of boys. Tinkerbell was certain that the island may have influenced Jean, but Pan was the ultimate reservoir of Jean's darkness.

"Why do you look so disappointed?" asked Jean.

Tinkerbell placed the vial of pixie dust and the lily on a stone, then straightened to look at her.

"You're so different," said Tinkerbell quietly. "Sometimes, I have to remember you _chose_ this path. It never seemed like a happy ending to me."

"But you remember our conversation about happy endings, right?" asked Jean.

"Of course I do," Tinkerbell replied. She walked towards Jean, who looked at her curiously. "I remembered it clearly. You've always said that for someone to have their happy ending, some people may not have theirs. I never, _ever_ wanted other people to die for something I wanted to have dearly. But you will kill whomever to get what you want."

"Well, getting my memories back became Peter's ambition, not mine necessarily," Jean reminded. "I never wanted Jay to pay the price. He was like a son to me."

"And you let Pan kill him just as easily."

"I couldn't stop it even if I had wanted to, Tink—I was in a fucking cage," Jean reminded. Slightly vexed, she reminded, "You gave your trust and last of your share of dust to aid in the cause so I don't know why you're talking to _me_ about this like it was all _my_ fault."

"I didn't know exactly what they were doing," Tinkerbell responded defensively, stepping towards Jean angrily. "I thought it was help you go back to being the girl you once were, to be what I always felt you should always have been: A _good_ girl, who **deserved** a happy ending."

Jean laughed darkly, saying, "Who told you all of that? I was only getting my memories back."

Tinkerbell frowned saying, "It was Felix who told me you needed my help, and it was he, who told me that by restoring what you had lost, you'd be the person you were again. I had no idea he meant restoring memories of the woman you'd been before—talk about a twist of words."

Jean shrugged saying, "You helped me though, Tink, and I never have forgotten."

Tinkerbell rolled her eyes saying, "I wish you would. Every time you come here, I feel like someone is going to burn my house down or I'm going to be involved in one of your games. I built my house here for a reason, so I can be left alone."

Jean said smoothly, "Well, for someone who wants to be left alone, you sure have a funny way of showing it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You clearly have no interest in this conversation, but you're still here debating with me about good versus evil, and what we would do to get our happy ending," Jean reminded. "Normally, I imagine any person of your stature would just leave the situation alone and go back to your hovel, pretend this conversation never came about, and ignore me for the rest of your stay here."

Tinkerbell returned, "That would be a rude thing to do."

Jean watched Tinkerbell consider walking away from Jean and this wretched conversation and go back to her tree house, ignoring Jean for the rest of her days on Neverland. But something kept her there; maybe it was for human company. The trees and wind could provide comfort in the night, but notably, Tinkerbell had been a fairy and she had the undying ambition to be around people, even help them if they needed it.

Tinkerbell invited Jean in her home. Jean looked around curiously, noting that it felt very comfortable in there. The fairy pulled up a chair for Jean to sit in, and Tinkerbell sat across from her at a wooden table.

"So," said Tinkerbell after a moment. "What's the vial of dust for?"

"If you make that dust work," said Jean softly, "You can use it to leave Neverland whenever you wish. You can fly away."

"So your aim is to get me killed?" Tinkerbell questioned sardonically, and she handed the dust to Jean. "No thanks."

"It is a way out," Jean offered.

"Pan won't let anyone leave this island without his permission," Tinkerbell reminded. "If people so much as get an inkling of an idea how to leave, he's already five steps ahead of making sure they never do."

Jean smiled saying, "I'll let him know you think that."

"Oh please, don't," muttered Tinkerbell, rubbing her forehead tiredly. "The boy's got a big enough ego as it is. No need to inflate it further."

"Egos aside," Jean mused, taking the vial in her hand and offering it back to Tinkerbell, "this is not a prank. And I don't even expect you to use it, really. But if you ever wanted to leave, and Peter had already denied your request, you could always use this."

"Why are you giving this to me?" asked Tinkerbell.

"A long time ago," said Jean, "you always said I needed to believe in myself. It wasn't until I started learning magic from Peter and becoming a mother to children I had never met that I believed I could do absolutely anything. In times when I could not turn to Peter or the Lost Boys, you were always there for me, watching over me. Like a good fairy."

Tinkerbell blinked back angry tears (for she had lost her wings) and she suppressed a happy smile (for it was the sadistic queen of Neverland that was giving her that compliment).

"You may not have always felt it in your heart to do what had to be done, but you always did it for _me_ ," said Jean quietly. "You looked after me even when we were no longer friends. And I won't overlook that loyalty."

"Well, you lost your way," Tinkerbell reminded. "And you still have."

Jean leaned back in her chair, sighing.

" _Anyway_ ," said Jean coolly, "I believed you deserved to have this fair amount of pixie dust. After what happened with Edge, Peter said you enlisted your help to gather all the fairy dust on the island and close it off in a vault so no one would ever be able to disguise themselves as Peter again."

Tinkerbell said calmly, "Normally, I would have declined, but after finding out Edge had tried to give you a love potion, I couldn't have been more agreeable." She shrugged, "You may be a real bitch from time to time, Jean, but no one deserves to live a lie—and loving Edge, forgetting Pan...that would have been a lie."

"Same reason why you helped restore my memories?"

Tinkerbell nodded.

Jean said softly, "You helped me a great deal. So I want to help you as well. That's what this is for." She indicated the dust. "I may not have as much power as Pan to determine who can or cannot leave the island, but I _do_ have enough influence over him to persuade. In any case that he chooses not to listen to me, you still have _your_ way out."

Finally, Tinkerbell took the vial and then after some reconsideration, she placed it inside her dress. She smiled at Jean.

"Thank you very much, Jean. But you know, Pan will throw a fit if he ever learns about this gift you have given me."

"Then it would be in your best interest to never let anyone know you have it," said Jean lightly. "If someone so much as asks for it, slit their throat."

"I can't do such a thing," Tinkerbell returned calmly.

"It's amazing what you can make people believe just by making them _think_ you can." Jean reminded, smirking at her.

She stood up; Tinkerbell did so as well. After the exchange of sweet, sweet words and a hug (although made awkward on Tinkerbell's part), Jean stepped down the ladder of the tree house. Tinkerbell followed her, and they were on even ground once more.

"When will you be coming by again?" asked Tinkerbell curiously. At Jean's curious expression, Tinkerbell explained: "I've missed our chats."

"I can come by again later in the day if you'd like," said Jean. "It's funny; I forget how amazing it is to talk to another female on the island until I see you."

"Same," said Tinkerbell. "Unless you count those god-awful mermaids."

"I don't talk to fish." Jean returned callously.

Tinkerbell laughed. They hugged again, and then Jean smiled. Then Jean left for camp. After some time had passed on her journey back, Jean was passing a clearing and she stopped when she heard the familiar English accent call out to her.

"Did she believe you?"

Jean turned to see Pan sitting on the forest ground, his back against a tree and his knees bent with his elbows resting on them lazily. Jean turned around slowly, looking at him.

"Yes," said Jean smoothly.

"For someone who used to be a fairy," said Pan cynically as he stood to his feet, "I thought she'd have known the difference between pixie dust and fire ashes."

"She does," said Jean.

Pan stared at her, then before he could interject, Jean stopped him.

"I will lie to the Lost Boys about the reason why you would want a boy's heart," said Jean quietly. "I will lie to anyone you so desperately wish to deceive, but Tinkerbell...I won't lie to _her_." She reached inside the bosom of her dress, and pulled out a vial, which clearly contained ashes.

"You actually gave her pixie dust," Pan noted, his tone a mixture of disbelief and irritation. "You realize what you've done?"

Jean placed it back in her bosom, saying, "What does it matter, Peter? She doesn't even believe in herself, never the less pixie dust. She couldn't off this island even if she wanted to."

"What makes you so sure of that?" Pan questioned.

"Tinkerbell and I have been friends for a while," Jean returned. "Call it a girl's intuition. The whole purpose of the meet was to get Tinkerbell on good terms again. And if I had given her the ashes, the conversation would have gone a lot differently."

"Were you going to tell me what you did?" Pan asked.

"In time, yes." Jean responded. She noticed the unhappy expression on his face, and Jean sighed. "You look displeased."

"Well, you didn't do what I asked." Pan reminded. "If any boy finds out Tinkerbell has that dust, she could very well be the reason why someone dies. With the turn-over of Lost Boys falling in love with you and trying to disguise themselves as me, we're losing a lot of useful hands."

"Well, don't worry about that; I told her to slit the throat of anyone that asks for it," Jean replied.

She began to walk on, but Pan grabbed her wrist, stopping her. She looked down at it, then up at him.

"I will never understand you," Pan muttered. "You want me to keep you safe, but you'll find ways to put yourself in danger."

"Fine. If you honestly believe she may find hope in herself, then you can take the dust from her. I won't even stop you."

"I don't care if she has hope or not and even—wait, what do you mean you won't even 'stop me'?" Pan questioned incredulously as though he just realized what Jean had implied. "You couldn't stop me **even** if you _wanted_ to."

Jean smirked at him, then she continued walking on with Pan following her. Jean had been playing with Pan, knowing very well that she couldn't stop him from doing what he wanted. Sure, she may be able to make him feel remorseful for going against her wishes, but by then, the act would have already been done. However, it was fun making him think that for only a second he could be stopped by something more than his own hand.

Jean's white top and bottom was a great contrast to the thick evergreen forest in which she and Pan strolled, hand-in-hand. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and her bare feet stepped over branches, the grass cooling her toes.

It was a quiet day on Neverland, and this was just perfect for the two of them. After the events of the obstacle course, one of Jean's most challenging and riveting games, the island had to calm down.

While the Lost Boys argued the fact that they were never able to see the end game of Jean's magnificent planning, they were all trying to figure out who won. Of course, the prize for winning was no longer in effect; the idea of Jean having sex with anyone else but him turned Pan into a rabid dog. What had been agreed upon was that the winner (who was Kibbles, for he did the best throughout the game) received a large chocolate dessert, which was given only to him and him alone.

Kibbles, who never partook in such a prize alone, shared the dessert. It was likely now that the boys were feasting on it, laughing about how cowardly Tock had been crossing the bridge and how quick he had lost his shit when Pan tossed him into the center of an angry, territorial team of Indians.

Jean and Pan were silent as they walked through the foliage. It was a comfortable silence in which the pair enjoyed. After a moment, Pan pulled Jean in front of him, taking her hands in his as Jean's back was softly cornered against a large, thick tree. Jean smiled at him, her smile bright. The bright blue pools of adoration met Pan's emerald green, which held the same.

"Do you realize how happy you make me, Jean?" Pan asked lightly.

Although the question wasn't what surprised her, Jean found the conversation starter a bit too deep and close to home. Rarely did they speak like this. This was a conversation they normally had when they were being their adult selves: Evanna and Malcolm. Granted, they were only ever this way when they were alone. And it seemed to Jean that they were.

"I think I do," said Jean, smiling at him.

He leaned into her. Pan placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, his palms bearing half his weight on the tree as he leaned over her; his lips were in kissing distance of hers, and Jean felt her body becoming hot.

Damn, he could upstart her desirous feelings within a second just by closing the proximity. What power he had over her.

"And do you realize," said Jean, slightly out of breath, "how happy you make me?"

Pan smiled at her, saying, "I think I do."

He was being playful, using her own words to answer her question. That was amusing.

"I would do anything to keep you happy," Pan told her softly.

"Is that so?" Jean responded playfully.

Pan wiped that smile off her face when he kissed her. There was the slightest squeak from Jean when she was surprised by his spontaneity, but she welcomed it happily. Her hands rubbed his chest; then when he kissed her harder, her fingers held onto his green tunic, twisting the material in her hands. Pan hadn't moved his own from the tree, and not feeling his fingers on her bare skin was making Jean restless. Never had she realized just how much she enjoyed his hands on her waist, or between her legs, until he hadn't even moved to touch her face.

She pulled him closer to her, their bodies rubbing against each other. Jean licked his bottom lip, and when he took her invitation to deepen the kiss, his tongue moved inside her mouth and she welcomed him openly. Jean's excitement heightened when she felt Pan's hands on her outer thighs, lifting her skirt up so she felt his fingers on her skin. He was pushing himself against her, and her hips pushed back to entice him further. From his lips came a dark little chuckle, and Jean felt her stomach do cartwheels like that of an Olympian.

Jean moaned ever so quietly when he kissed her again while simultaneously pushing his erection between her legs. They were fully clothed and how Jean despised those layered barriers. Pan directed his kisses from her mouth to her neck and Jean tilted her head back to give him more access. He would nibble, and kiss, and suck gently, never leaving a mark but hearing the sound of his accomplishment echo softly from the lips of his lovely Lost Girl.

"I like hearing you moan," Pan whispered into her ear. "But not as much as I love hearing my name."

Just as things were about to get really interesting, Pan and Jean suddenly inhaled sharply. They glanced at each other curiously and they both turned to look in the direction of the main entrance of Neverland. Connected to Neverland in their own special way, Pan and Jean had heard its calling and the feeling only meant one thing: Someone had come to Neverland.

"Do you know who they are?" asked Jean quietly as she walked with Pan towards the direction of the newcomers.

"I don't." Pan returned. Smirking, he added, "At least, not yet."

Being a part of Neverland, Pan could get a few ideas of who the newcomers were. When they set foot on the island, the land picked up various identity traits, a small sight into their past; facts he didn't know about them before would slowly pick up the pieces in his brain.

While Jean was not so connected to the island to receive such an omnipotent power, she always felt the land's call when someone came or left the island. Neverland had been rubbing off on her, so in time, she was sure she'd get that talent. Granted, Pan was the sole benefactor of Neverland's magic.

Pan stopped just a mile from where the island had alerted him of the new arrivals. He pulled a small object from his belt and extending one end from the other, he held out a telescope, glancing into it to observe the newcomers.

He watched two men take a canoe from a very large ship and row themselves to the shore. The men wore uniforms like those of the Navy. Jean, who was crouched just behind him, watched curiously as well.

"How did they even get here?" asked Jean curiously.

"Probably a magical portal," said Pan.

He handed the telescope to Jean, who took it and looked through it as well.

"Or some feather blanket," Jean noted.

Pan furrowed his eyebrows at Jean, looking at her as though she had grown three heads. To prove she hadn't lost her mind, she held out the scope to him and he took it.

"Look at the sails," said Jean.

Pan did so and he noticed the 'feather blanket' as well.

"Pegasus feathers, you think?" Jean inquired.

"How do you know anything about that?" Pan asked.

Jean snatched the telescope from him smartly, saying, "You're forgetting I lived in the World Without Magic for quite a time before I came here to be with you. High School is filled with useless information and some of it was learning about Greek Mythology—Pegasus is part of the mythology."

Pan rolled his eyes, saying, "That doesn't give you much credibility. In that world, I'm not even real."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, none of this is real in that world." Jean returned pointedly.

"How is that supposed to make me feel any better?" Pan inquired sarcastically.

"It shouldn't." Jean returned, smirking at him.

"Ouch," Pan muttered flatly.

Jean continued watching through the telescope and said quietly, "They're making their way to the shore now."

"Thank you for the play-by-play," Pan drawled. He stood up, looking down at her. "Stay here while I go and see what they want."

"Why should I stay here?" asked Jean, getting to her feet. "Maybe I want to meet them as well."

Pan rolled his eyes, saying, "Two grown men come to Neverland on a flying ship with the feathers of a dying horse breed and you want to greet them like it's a breakfast inn?"

Jean crossed her arms.

"You know, it would have been less cynical just for you to admit that you suspect them to be a potential threat and you just want to keep me safe." Jean stated calmly.

She kissed his cheek and he smiled at her.

"Be nice," said Jean softly.

Pan lifted an eyebrow at her, saying, "I'm always nice."

"Sure you are," drawled Jean.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and she kissed him. He returned it, and a small smile danced on his lips when she kissed him harder, knocking the air out of him when she finally pulled away, leaving him breathless. She had begun to walk away, but Pan snatched her back and resumed their passionate snogging, getting hot and heavy until Jean stopped him. After all, they had the arrivals to consider. While Pan could care less whether or not the arrivals heard Jean screaming in agonizing pleasure, Jean seemed to consider the fact that they really _didn't_ know what the newcomers wanted, and that took precedence.

Pan watched Jean smooth out her skirt, and he found himself wanting to make it and the rest of her clothes disappear. The image of her naked body made him smile, and Jean looked at him pointedly.

"Remember: Be _nice_." She said.

"What do I get in return?" Pan asked.

Jean closed this distance between them again and Pan watched her carefully, smirking when her hand slid down from his chest to his pants, her fingers groping him.

"Show me just how well-behaved you can be," she whispered. "And you can do anything you want to me tonight. No restrictions, no equivocations."

Pan said quietly, "That's a dangerous offer, Kitten."

"But now, I've provided you motivation," Jean returned delicately. She bit her lip when she squeezed him gingerly and the act alone made Pan groan longingly.

She kissed him on the cheek, and Pan smiled at her.

"I'll be at Tink's," said Jean softly.

"Doing what?" Pan asked.

Jean smirked, saying, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Pan lifted his eyebrows at her, enticed by that lovely image of his little minx and an ex-fairy sitting in a tree house...alone. While there was a sure bet Jean would never betray their love to be with a fairy who was soft on the eyes, Pan still had a nice image of Jean and Tinkerbell playing dirty.

Before Jean turned to leave Pan with the new arrivals, Pan took her arm and she looked at him curiously.

"In all seriousness, be careful, Kitten."

"Always am." She said. Jean licked his jaw like a little kitten would (as was Pan's pet name for her), and mewed, "I love you."

"I love you too," Pan returned.

Jean beamed. With another small, soft kiss exchanged between them, Jean walked away and headed for Tinkerbell's Tree House. Pan looked after her with a small smile. Then he magicked himself to meet the newcomers.


	28. Jean and Pan Meet the Jones Brothers

()()()()

Pan watched the two men deliberate on some mission and its importance, knowing they had no idea that he was standing right in front of them. They talked about what they might be after and whether or not it would even help their king, and finally, Pan became bored so he finally made his presence known with a question.

"Are you two lost?" Pan questioned loudly.

Suddenly, hearing him, the two men dressed in Navy uniforms drew their swords and aimed the fine points at Pan's neck. He didn't flinch, instead he smiled.

"You look lost to me," Pan said.

"Identify yourself, boy," ordered the eldest looking sailor.

Pan said smoothly, "I'm Peter Pan. I live here." He looked at them curiously, saying, "Who are you?"

Disarmed for the moment and seeing only a boy, the sailors sheathed their weapons. The eldest sailor and obviously the one in command out of the duo, spoke for he and his companion.

"Captain Jones, and this is my Leftenant." He said smoothly, now that his guard was down. "We're here by order of the king."

Pan glanced between the two sailors with curiosity, and moreover felt as though they were just as ignorant of themselves as they were of him. Pan gave the captain a less than amused look.

"The 'king', huh?" Pan scoffed. "We don't have any kings in Neverland. Just **me**."

"That's funny," said Captain Jones, unenthusiastic.

Pan watched him, becoming less and less humored. If he had to choose which of the two had the least amount of humor, he'd have chosen Captain Jones as his prized stallion. Every now and then, Pan noticed the other one looking uncertain, wondering first off where Pan had come from. It was as though he had appeared out of the blue.

"We seek this plant," Captain Jones stated cordially, taking out a scroll of parchment and unraveling it; he placed it eye-level of Pan, who glanced from the Captain to the picture. "Tell us, boy, where can we find it?"

Pan took the scroll. He gave it one look and instantly was amused once more.

"Your _king_ sent you for this plant," Pan mused as he gave the page a cocky flourish and only knew this could end in favor of his entertainment.

Hearing the familiarity in the boy's voice, Captain Stick-in-the-Mud said knowingly, "You know it?"

"Dreamshade," Pan said smoothly. "It's the deadliest plant on the island. Your King is really ruthless."

The Captain looked a little less than convinced, while his Leftenant looked even more uncertain with their presence. While he appeared uncertain, he seemed to contain more humility, willing to admit when there might have been a mistake on their own King's behalf.

"Nonsense!" The Captain denied.

"It's medicine," Leftenant Jones insisted.

"It's _doom_ ," Pan reasoned. "Why fight a messy battle if you can kill an entire army with the sap of one plant?"

Captain Jones looked as though he had already finished listening to Pan's 'nonsense' while the other one looked more or less inclined to believe him. The clear confusion and doubt on the Leftenant's face made the whole situation even funnier. Pan watched the latter lean in and the two Sailors had a nice, quiet conversation.

"This boy is playing games with us," the Captain said (apparently overriding any qualms his second-in-command might have confided), "and I'm quickly tiring of them." He snatched the scroll from Pan's hand.

The Captain looked at his second-in-command saying, "Come. We must move quickly."

Pan watched the two leave and the Leftenant glanced back a few times, looking even more uncertain than when he had arrived on the island. Pan waved after them saying, "Don't say I didn't warn you!"

As he watched them leave, Pan shrugged. Well, at least he was nice as Jean had requested. He smirked, knowing he'd meet them along the way in a short amount of time.

(())(())(())

"Where are you going?" Tinkerbell asked as Jean was getting ready to leave.

"You wanted to see me ride a crocodile, didn't you?" Jean questioned.

Tinkerbell giggled, saying, "I was just _joking_. I know you have the bravery to do it."

"Then maybe you should try it," said Jean, smirking at her. "It's really exhilarating."

"I'm not risking my life to do something that will only give me nightmares," Tinkerbell stated.

"Oh come on, Tink." Jean encouraged. "You _have_ to do it. It only sounds scary because you've never done it before."

"No, no, no, no," Tinkerbell returned, "it sounds scary because it **is**. You can ride crocodiles all day long and even swim with mermaids, but I'm no where near that adventurous. I like my tree house, thank you very much, and I shall live another day."

"Boo," Jean teased. "For a fairy, you have _no_ sense of adventure."

Tinkerbell watched Jean stand to her feet for a second time. Inquiring as to where she would be going now, Jean answered, "To my own tree house."

"Why?"

"Well, I was thinking that since you won't ride crocodiles with me, you and I can drink to a renewed friendship." Jean offered. She leaned in and kissed Tinkerbell on the cheek; the fairy looked surprised, and she shook her head, laughing as Jean made a face at her.

"You're ridiculous," Tinkerbell chuckled. "Just be careful on your way, all right? No amount of alcohol is worth getting ripped to pieces by a bear."

Jean said smoothly, "I'll be back. I can't imagine what a fairy is like when they've had a few shots of rum."

"I guess we'll find out," Tinkerbell giggled.

Jean rolled her eyes as she climbed down the ladder of the tree house. She took the short cut back to the camp and as she climbed over a large hill, Jean stopped when she heard two unfamiliar voices.

"I'm not so sure this was the way," an uncertain voice stated.

"I'm sure it is," said a more confident voice.

Both voices were male.

"What if what the boy said was true. What if Dreamshade is poison?"

"Letting him get in your head already, brother?" said the stern one.

Jean glanced over the hill to see the two guests in uniform traveling up the same hill on which she stood.

"He's leading us right to it," the younger sailor stated. "Why would he lie about its purpose?"

Jean sat on the rock, watching them stumble and trip up the rocky hill. It was humorous seeing them so unbalanced in their black boots while Jean could meander through the forests and _she_ was barefoot. While she had been invisible to them prior to their ascension, her white, long-sleeved blouse and her pure white skirt shown like a beacon to them as they reached the top.

Seeing a girl with long black hair flowing over her bare shoulders, her soft stomach exposed by the high hems of her shirt, and the brilliant blue eyes meeting theirs, the Sailors immediately stopped talking and their swords were out. While their aim was not nearly as high when Pan had been their target, the men remained on high alert, eyeing Jean carefully.

What made her stand out was not just the red diamond that was centered in the middle of her collar bone, or the bright blue eyes that evenly met their own. When she stood, the men felt a certain calming presence, and maybe that's what made them so guarded.

"Who are you?" The Captain demanded.

"Who are _you_?" Jean resounded, pointing at them.

Out of the pair, Jean already favored the younger one. Black hair, scruffy chin, and light blue eyes of his own, Jean found him very attractive. The Captain stepped forward, placing the sword's tip on her shoulder just beside her neck, and Jean gave him a calculating look, smirking when the Leftenant looked hesitantly at his brother.

"I'm asking the questions, little girl," said the Captain calmly. "Now. Answer my question. Who are you?"

"I'm Jean," she responded coolly. "Now, if you'd be _so_ kind as to point your sword away from me, please."

The Captain stared at her, as though trying to decide whether or not Jean posed a threat. The other one leaned in and said quietly, "Brother, please. She's only a girl."

Appealing to his brother's wishes, the Captain lowered his sword, sheathing it when Jean gave the two a cool, but polite, expression.

"I'm Captain Jones. This is my Leftenant."

"Also Jones," said the Leftenant, smiling politely at her.

"Hmm." Jean mused, smiling at the latter. She looked at the both of them pointedly. "What is your business here?"

"Do you live here with the boy?" asked the Captain.

Jean rolled her eyes saying, "How about you answer my question first, then I'll answer yours, _Captain_."

"We're looking for a plant," said the younger Jones, stepping forward. He glanced at his brother then to Jean: "We journeyed a long ways to find this. Our King told us we would be able to find it here." He held out the same scroll that Captain Jones had shown Pan, and when Jean saw it, she frowned.

"What did 'the boy' tell you when you had shown this to him?" she asked.

"He said it was doom."

"He's right, you know," said Jean smoothly, taking the scroll and looking at it. Distractedly, she added: "Whoever designed this picture has _amazing_ handiwork."

"Enough!" The Captain said, snatching the scroll from her.

"Rude." Jean mewed, smirking at the two of them.

"It's clear she's playing games alongside the boy," the Captain muttered to his brother. "They're wasting our time and I shall have no part of it."

"Let me ask _you_ a question," said Jean, and hearing her cynicism, the two brothers glanced at her expectantly. "Do you really believe your King? Or do you believe _mine_?"

"I'm done listening to this," muttered Captain Jones. He rolled his eyes, and he continued up the hill without so much as a good-bye.

However, the Leftenant looked at her imploringly. Jean smiled at him.

" _Do_ you live here with that boy?" asked the younger Jones brother.

Jean nodded, saying, "Of course I do."

He looked as though he might have continued to ask another question until his brother called for him to continue their adventure and needlessly be bothered again by the girl. Looking at her as though he wanted to apologize for his brother's insolence, Leftenant Jones simply continued on. Jean watched after them, rolling her eyes.


	29. Be Nice

()()()()

Jean knew where the Navy Sailors were heading. While Dreamshade could be found anywhere on the island really, the one place they were guaranteed to find stock was at the top of Deadman's Peak. Knowing this would only end in tragedy, seeing as how arrogant the Captain had been and how uncertain the brother appeared of his own King's intentions, Jean followed. She kept her distance, and only moved when they did.

She didn't listen to their conversation, knowing it either featured their squabble about the Dreamshade being a miraculous cure or deadly poison. As she followed, Jean noticed that despite their argument, the Captain appeared to have a great amount of loyalty towards his King.

As they ascended to the precipice of the peak, Jean waited. She listened to the younger brother observe the plant and state that it didn't appear to be a cure, while his brother insisted they should follow King's order and retrieve what they had set out to obtain. After a few biting comments from each man, the younger brother insisted he would fight his enemies, but he would only fight fair.

Jean smirked; that kind of ruling she favored. Jean glimpsed over the edge to see the older brother whack off a branch of the Dreamshade, and as though to prove a point, he placed the thorns of the deadly plant just above his forearm. Leftenant Jones immediately begged him not to do it, but just as he did, the older brother sliced his arm with the thorns of the plant. Jean gasped, cringing at the thought of purposely condemning a person to that fate.

At first, nothing happened. But it was a matter of waiting. Jean stood to her feet when the Captain fell forward; catching him, the younger brother was immediately stricken with fear. Jean moved in.

"Come on, Liam. Let's get you back to the ship."

He saw Jean, and began, "He..."

"I know," said Jean, shaking her head.

She frowned, watching Captain Jones look up at her as though he might want to punch her….or maybe thank her? It was an odd expression, and frankly, Jean was having trouble reading it, but the horror on Killian's face was unmistakable.

The older brother was starting to lose consciousness as the Dreamshade was making its way from his arm to other parts of his body.

"I tried to warn you."

Jean and Killian looked up from the dying brother over to Peter Pan, who was leaning against a rock looking amiably at them. Seeing Jean, Pan gave her a look as though scolding her for going anywhere near the newcomers, while Killian glanced between the two of them, realization appearing on his face soon after. He seemed to recognize a relationship when he saw one as Jean and Pan exchanged glances.

"Please," said the younger brother, looking terribly frightened.

Jean straightened, getting to her feet as Pan walked over to where the dying brother lain. It was obvious what would happen to him; thanks to Captain Jones, he'd practically sentenced himself to fate with the depth he'd cut himself. Pan had gestured for Jean to stand away from the brothers—not that they posed a threat, but he was feeling a little protective of her at this moment.

"He'll die just as soon as the poison reaches his heart," Pan said in a matter-of-fact tone, striding towards him.

"Please," begged Killian. "He's my brother—He's all I have left."

Pan retorted, "Well, then, maybe you shouldn't have goaded him into it!"

Killian responded fretfully, "He's so stubborn, I didn't mean to..." He glanced up at Jean, who looked at him sympathetically, then turned to Pan. "...Can you help me?"

Pan rolled his eyes, sighing apathetically. Jean bit her lip, and she moved closer to Pan. She whispered something quietly in his ear, and Killian Jones bore witness to the fact that Jean could persuade Pan to do just about anything. At first, Pan had dismissed whatever Jean told him, but with a few more minutes of lowered voices, Pan looked convinced. He looked at Killian as Jean continued to speak to him in a voice only he could hear, and then he sighed.

"I may not feel like it," Pan told Killian, "but fortunately, for you, it's your lucky day."

Killian stood to his feet, glancing at Jean, who was smiling sweetly at him, then to Pan, who looked more or less appeased.

"There is a way to stop him from dying," said Pan.

"Tell me."

Pan walked over to a wall where the thorns were masking a door. As he waved his hand, the thorns shriveled away, bearing entrance to a large spring behind their shrubbery. As though noticing the boy possessed magical talent, Killian glanced at the separating foliage, then at Pan.

"This spring," said Pan. "These waters are rich with the powers of Neverland. It's what keeps this island and all on it so... _young_. If one was to drink directly from it, its powers could cure any ill."

"Thank you," Killian whispered, stepping past him to retrieve the cure for his brother.

"But I must warn you," Pan said quickly, grabbing Killian's shoulder.

Killian glanced at Pan's hand then at him.

"All magic comes with a price, and that spring is no exception," said Pan, pointing at the waters. "Don't leave the island unless you're willing to pay it."

"Of course," said Killian quickly. "Whatever you want, it's yours!"

Pan watched the Sailor move into the Spring, holding out his canteen to retrieve the Never-water. As he did, Pan turned to Jean seriously.

"You're taking on a great deal of risk," Pan noted. "I thought I told you to stay hidden."

"I ran into them once already," Jean returned calmly.

"That's a very large coincidence," Pan said coolly.

Jean shrugged, saying, "I'm full of them."

She smiled at Pan, and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you for helping them," said Jean.

"Oh, don't thank me yet," Pan uttered. "I held up my end of the bargain. I'll meet you back home so you can hold up _your_ end."

He held her chin with his thumb and index finger and kissed her gently, but behind all that softness was a growing desire that he couldn't wait to be satiated. Jean was left breathless as he stepped back, and then he poofed away. Jean watched Killian come back, kneeling beside his brother. As Captain Jones drank the Never-water from the canteen and he gradually found his bearing, Killian stood, looking at Jean with the utmost gratitude.

"Thank you for your persuasion," said Killian gratefully. "I owe you a debt."

Jean said lightly, "Don't thank me yet."

"But I must," Killian insisted. "Without your help, my brother would have died. And then I would have been alone."

Jean shrugged saying, "You learn to live with loneliness. I did so for years."

Killian looked at Jean curiously, saying, "Are you and that boy…together?"

Jean giggled, saying, "Is that what they call it these days?"

Captain Jones coughed up the water and he was sitting up. When Killian turned to ask what she and the boy would want in payment for helping cure his brother, neither of them were to be found.

()()()()

Jean watched from the shore as Killian and his brother, Liam, walked back to their canoe and started rowing back to their ship. It would only be hours before they landed in their world and Liam Jones would die. Pan's warning had been true, but the price of magic was always a little faulty, even when described by the dealer.

The ship started to move faster and faster, and when the Pegasus sail was lifted and blowing in the wind, the magnificent vessel picked itself up and started flying up to the skies. Jean admired the vessel for the proud ship that it was, and then it winked out of sight as it reached its destiny.

Jean walked back to the tree house, forgetting that Tinkerbell was sitting in her own, waiting for Jean to return. She sent one of the Lost Boys to give a polite, and kind message to the fairy, telling her that they would have to reschedule their toast for another time for Jean had to settle a deal back at home.

When she climbed up her and Pan's tree house, she noticed that the bedroom had changed a little bit. There were lit candles in all four corners of the room, and the bed had changed from his white pretty comforter to a combination of dark green and black patterns. Jean touched the bed sheets, perplexed, then jumped when she felt a pair of arms slink their away around her waist; they moved her closer to their owner, and Jean felt her back rub against Pan's chest.

"I thought you'd have come to me a lot sooner," Pan uttered quietly, his voice laced with lust.

"Had to see them off," Jean returned.

She turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck. That was when she noticed he was naked. A smile tugged at her lips, but Jean attempted to mask her own desire.

"I don't know why you wanted to save him," Pan told her. "I can't imagine what you got out of it."

Jean shrugged saying, "I guess Tinkerbell is rubbing off on me."

"Hm." Pan chuckled.

Wordlessly, Pan took the hem of her skirt and pulled it down; it, along with her panties, dropped at her ankles. Jean looked into his eyes to see that he had an idea as to how Jean could repay him. He had been a lot nicer to the sailors that he normally might have been, and that was all due to Jean. She had promised to do anything he wanted tonight, nothing was off limits. And now, Pan was going to cash in the promise.

They kept eye contact as Jean pulled her shirt above her head, and now she matched his nudity. Pan gazed at her body, admiring how beautiful his queen appeared whether clothed or naked. As though standing naked before him was foreplay all by itself, Jean seemed breathless. But her body didn't react until he kissed her neck, and his hands lightly grazed her rib cage. He liked hearing her soft sighs, the light hitch of her breath when he bit her collar.

"What I'm about to do is something I've thought about for a _very_ long time," Pan whispered against her skin.

"And what's that?" Jean asked quietly.

"You'll find out." Pan promised.

Jean looked at him reproachfully.

"Get on your knees." Pan commanded.

Jean bit her lip, loving that tone of voice. She slowly did as he requested, and knelt down. Pan looked down at her, a cunning smile drawn on his face as he placed his hand behind her head, his fingers interlacing in her fine ebony locks.

"You know what to do." Pan told her.

Jean met his eyes as she made little kitten licks around the tip of his erected cock. Pan watched her take the tip of it in her mouth, her tongue rolling around him like she was a little girl with a lollipop. Every ounce of him felt hot as Jean made soft moaning sounds, the vibration of her voice along his shaft made Pan shudder as she took more of him inside her mouth.

Her mouth was wet, and warm. While her tongue spun circles around his cock, Pan watched Jean's hands move to his thighs. He smirked, watching her enthusiasm. He felt himself getting closer to the edge, getting closer to that release; and Jean could get him there, oh yes, she could. She had done it many times before with just her mouth.

"That's it, babe," Pan breathed. "Keep going."

Jean bobbed her head, his cock moving deeper inside her throat. Pan moaned; his grip on her hair tightened as he was slowly reaching his climax. Sensing his teeter-totter orgasm, Jean began sucking and with one hand, she rubbed his shaft. Pan was losing his bearing; Jean remedied it easily; She quickly stood to her feet, and pushed Pan on the bed, his legs still hung over the bed, but that was Jean's intention.

As though she hadn't even been interrupted, Jean lied on her stomach on top of the comforter, bent at an angle so she could hoist herself on her elbows and she continued sucking him off. One of Pan's hands was in her hair, grabbing at the roots while the other clenched the comforter until his knuckles shown white. His head was tilted back, his lips parted in an 'o' as he felt the most intense orgasm beginning to ascend.

"Oh, please don't stop, baby," Pan begged. "Oh my _god_."

Jean inwardly smiled when his hips began thrusting as she bobbed up and down. The moans resounding from him made her wet, and the feel of his hand making fists in her hair had her going. She sucked on him, feeling him twitch inside her mouth. When she didn't let up, Pan was in the palm of her hand. In a matter of seconds, he experienced one hell of a release and doing so, Jean swallowed all of him.

Jean licked her lips, looking at Pan, who appeared quite spent. He was panting, and breathless. But she would have been a fool to think he could be satiated by a blow job. That would have been unlike him. Just as she expected, Pan got to his knees, and he kissed her, _hard_.

"Get on your back." Pan ordered hoarsely.

Jean did as she was told. When she did, Pan grabbed her wrists in one of his hands and when he pinned them above her head against the headboard of the bed, he waved the free one over them so a chain appeared and connected itself from the headboard and around her wrists. Jean gave the chain a curious look, then looked at Pan.

"What…."

"You said I could do anything to you," Pan panted."'No restrictions, No equivocations.'". He grinned, adding, "Those are your words, by the way."

Jean said smoothly, "Why chains? Why not a rope?"

Pan chuckled, saying, "I taught you everything there is to know on this island. I would expect you to get out of a rope knot, even the ones _I_ tie."

Jean nodded her head, saying smoothly, "Fair point."

"Speaking of which..." Pan muttered.

He snapped his fingers and the same chains that bound her wrists, snaked up to her ankles and pulled her legs apart.

She hadn't quite imagined _this_ part, but Jean was feeling a little giddy. Dominant Pan was coming out to play, apparently. Not that she minded.

"Look at you now," Pan said, sitting in between her legs. "All pretty and on display. And just for me."

He ran his hands from her shoulders, down her breasts, over her stomach, then down her thighs, stopping at her knees and gave them a quick squeeze that made Jean jump.

There was a spark of lust that lit Jean's eyes. Hearing him talk like that always made her a little rambunctious. Being unable to do anything about it though, that was a new feeling Jean was starting to experience. Chained together at the wrists and separately by her ankles, Jean was at her lover's mercy….and that made Jean feel dreadfully excited.

"I was a little irritated when we were interrupted earlier," Pan stated casually, although his fingers were stroking Jean's thighs, getting closer to the source of all her desire. "I can promise you nothing will be coming in between us for a long, _long_ time."

Jean bit her lip when he gently touched her clit with his fingers, and her body jolted from the mere contact. Pan licked his lips, entertained, as he watched Jean's hips move towards his hand when he felt just how wet she was. His fingers soaked with her excitement, and he smiled at her knowingly.

"Looks like I'm not the only one whose come already," Pan noted, smirking at Jean.

Jean said quietly, "Are you going to do this all night?"

"What, tease you?" Pan asked. He slid his fingers between the lips of her pussy, skimming the entrance but never entering them inside. "I _could_ do this all night, babe. I like watching you squirm."

Jean clenched her jaw when he did it again, and she pinched her eyes shut so as to assuage the guilty pleasure she had in his teasing. The torture of it all was sometimes unbearable but so delicious.

Her chains rattled when Pan crawled onto her as she made an interesting effort to get free. Pan watched her admirably, then looked down at her. Her face was flushed red, and those eyes of hers...phew...they were dilated. She wanted him so badly. And that stroked Pan's ego more than anything.

"You were the one that gave me permission to do this," Pan reminded.

He kissed her cheek, and she turned to him so his kiss fell on her lips instead. He lied down between her legs, his cock lying against her pussy, his shaft rubbing between the folds but (like his fingers), he never entered. The kiss between she and Pan was fiery, aggressive. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, never breaking their kiss, and Jean whimpered when she felt the tip of his cock enter just a little bit inside her pussy. It might have felt like a godsend after all the sliding and rubbing, but now Jean ached for more of him.

"Peter," Jean begged.

"Tonight, I'm going to be something else to you," Pan whispered. "You remember what I said you'd have to call me if we ever became rulers of the Underworld?"

Jean nodded.

"You might want to start calling me that early." Pan breathed.

One hand on her neck, the other gripped the chains along her wrists, Pan kissed Jean harder than ever as he teased her pussy with his cock, eluding to the fact he may thrust inside but never doing so. Jean was a puddle of desire. So wet. So needy.

"You want me inside you, don't you," Pan said.

"Yes."

"Then say it."

Jean mumbled the word.

"You know me, Jean," Pan told her. "I want you to be louder. Say it."

"Master." Jean whispered.

Pan smirked at her.

The word spoken on her lips, the word breathed in need and wanton. The image of his little Jean sitting on a throne beside him in the Underworld, dressed in what he could only imagine was a skimpy outfit and only for his viewing pleasure, made him harder than brimstone. While Jean could forever be his equal and his love, the idea of her being his subordinate and naughty sex slave made the fantasy that much hotter.

And right now, he _was_ her Master. The only person that could give her what she wanted.

"Please..." Jean begged. "Please—I can't take it. I need you."

She was fighting against her chains with impressive strength. Pan watched her, impressed, and all the more turned on.

 _We've got a fighter_. Pan's thought reigned true.

When Pan made the chains of her desire (so to speak) disappear, he braced himself for the animal unleashed. Jean attacked him, but he caught her and pushed Jean on her back. She grunted, and he moved between her legs, loving the fight and fire coming out of her. The moment he was between her legs, he positioned himself and thrust deep, deep, deeply inside of her. Jean screamed briefly as she welcomed him inside completely.

What followed was the rough sex that Pan had expected and wanted most. She was a wild one, and her fingernails raked his shoulders and back; her teeth bit his lip and, once, even his tongue. Just to match her aggression, he pounded inside of her, rough and hard, not holding back. Her back arched with her pending orgasm, and her moans became screams. Sweat rolled down their bodies, and a fierce climax was just around the corner as Jean begged for him to make her come.

When she reached it, Pan reached his. Her body seemed to convulse with the intense orgasm, and when it slowly began to slacken its hold on her muscles, Jean panted and her eyes rolled in the back of her head. Pan lied on top of her, his head in the valley of her breasts as he listened to her strong, rapid heart beat. They were sweaty, but comfortable.

"I...love you," Pan managed, despite his breathless demeanor.

"I love you too," Jean muttered.

After a time had passed, Jean and Pan were sitting up with their back against the headboard. Jean admired the chains, looking at them curiously then tossing them off the bed. Pan watched Jean move in front of him. He was made sensitive after their passionate love-making, but he was inclined to see what Jean was about to do. She placed herself between his legs, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"What are you doing?" Pan asked.

"You'll see." Jean whispered.

She lowered herself down and with her hands on his innermost thighs, she ever so lightly placed the tip of his sensitive cock in her mouth. Pan inhaled sharply, but there was smallest surge of pleasure that derived from her tongue massaging him. Jean moaned happily, tasting herself on him. Pan groaned when he felt himself becoming harder, and how he wanted her all over again.

Jean kissed the tip then she raised herself up; Pan smirked when she straddled his waist and she lowered her pussy around his cock, and the feeling of it made both of them moan deeply. Her motions were slow, knowing the two of them were highly sensitive post-coitus. Still, the smallest movements ignited pleasure, and the slow rhythm almost seemed to bond them. The pace gave Jean and Pan the time to kiss just as slowly.

"I love feeling you inside of me," Jean mumbled.

Pan moved her on her back and Jean wrapped her legs around his waist. His thrusts were deep and slow, wanting to feel every part of her, to re-memorize what he remembered all those years ago. He wrapped his arms around his queen, and they kissed long and sweet.

Their bodies fit as though they'd been made for each other. His chest rubbing against her breasts, their bodies moving with the other; hearing Jean moan deeply, and Jean feeling protected and safe inside the hold of his arms. Love-making at its finest.

The orgasm that came to them this time was small, but strong, and releasing himself inside of her, Pan moaned; her pussy walls tightened around him, and it was the best thing he'd ever felt. Pan pulled out of her, and Jean protested quietly; they both lied on their backs, looking up at the ceiling of the tree house, the candles still burning and casting shadows of the objects in the bedroom.

"I wonder if the Shadows are having as good of a time as we are," Jean wondered aloud.

Pan had a fleeting image of his shadow fucking Jean's shadow and he didn't know whether to be disgusted or to laugh. Jean kissed Pan's cheek, bringing him out of the frighteningly real image; he looked at her.

"Do you think that brother lived?" asked Jean quietly.

"You know as well as I that he didn't." Pan told her.

Jean shrugged saying, "It was nice of you to help him though."

Pan said pointedly, "I only did because you convinced me to do it."

"Thank you," said Jean sweetly.

"Anything for you, Kitten." Pan responded as he yawned.

Jean cuddled closely to him and underneath the covers, they lied together. Pan wrapped his arms around her protectively, while Jean happily cuddled as the smaller spoon.

Had Killian Jones and his brother been the only newcomers ever to enter Neverland, Jean and Pan would have gone on like that until the end of time.

But when it came down to it, Jean knew what still needed to be done.

They still needed to find the heart of the Truest Believer. Only with it would she and Pan be able to live their lives like this forever as King and Queen of Neverland.

-End of King and Queen of Neverland-

A/N: Stay tuned for the sequel—it's coming up shortly!


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